


Ribbons around Our Hearts

by octoberinlondon



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 27,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberinlondon/pseuds/octoberinlondon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecily Neville feels her death is near, but she wants her granddaughter Elizabeth, now Queen of England, to know who she really is. As the story of Cecily’s life progresses, Elizabeth realises her grandmother is more than the stiff woman she remembers, she’s a woman, a lover, a wife, and a mother - and she’s still willing to fight for justice.</p>
<p>Part of the TWQBigBang</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Tell Me Your Story

Elizabeth hands her cloak to a servant. She doesn’t even look at her, she doesn’t care about her. The messenger has told her about her condition. _“Your grandmother, the Duchess of York, is about to die, Your Grace!”_ She has rushed immediately to her, not bothering about Henry’s command to stay with him. Elizabeth loves Henry, or she has rather come to love him, but _she is not his puppet!_

Her grandmother is her only connection to her father. The only one who can tell her everything about him, the only one to share her memories with. She doesn’t know why she’s shivering. Is it because of the cold, or because of the feeling she’s going to lose the last connection to her father? She doesn’t know. 

Elizabeth still thinks Cecily is a stiff, controlled and composed woman, and it makes her wonder how her warm and loving father could have been the son of her. Richard has been more like her. The thought of his name sends a shiver down her spine as she slowly walks down the corridor. No, he’s not been her lover, but her uncle and her friend. A part of her cannot forgive him for declaring her a bastard, but then there’s also a part of her that cannot forgive Henry for causing his death. 

She enters Cecily’s favourite room. Her grandmother sits close to the fireplace, a blanket wrapped around her. _She must be cold_. Elizabeth thinks, looking at her for a moment. Her back is still a straight line, nothing has changed, and nothing will ever change. 

“Life has never been kind to us, Richard, but we made it. I really think we did.” Cecily mutters and lets the wine swirl in the glass. For a second, Elizabeth doesn’t understand why her grandmother is talking to Richard, until she realises Cecily means her Richard, the grandfather she’s never met. 

“Grandmère?” Elizabeth has never addressed her grandmother in English, and she wonders why, probably because of her father... it’s been something her father would have done. “Elizabeth? You’ve come.” Elizabeth’s heart clenches in her chest. The softness in her grandmother’s voice tells her the messenger’s spoken the truth. Cecily Neville, Duchess of York is dying. She suppresses her tears.

“Yes, Grandmère, I’m here.” Elizabeth moves forward, and sinks down in front of her grandmother. Cecily smiles, and for a moment Elizabeth believes that it’s been a lie. Her grandmother won’t die. Cecily Neville will live forever. “You look like my Edward.” Cecily murmurs and gently runs her fingers over Elizabeth’s cheeks. Elizabeth grabs her hand and kisses it. 

“How are the children?” “They’re fine. I’m always a bit worried about Arthur, but he’s doing great. Margaret and Henry are thriving, you would love to see Henry, he is so much like Papa. Well, Bessie worries me much. She’s constantly coughing and I’m afraid her time on this earth will be short…” Elizabeth bites her tongue. 

Cecily nods. “I will pray for her, my darling.” Elizabeth finds herself close to tears again. _How much mother has done you wrong_. “Don’t worry,” Cecily says softly, “I know your mother has never been fond of me, and to be honest, I’ve not been very fond of her either.” “Did you read my thoughts, Grandmère?” They both laugh. 

“Why did you want me to come?” Elizabeth finally takes the courage to ask her grandmother. She’s afraid of the answer.  
“I’m dying, Elizabeth, but I can’t die without you knowing the truth. I want you to know who I really was. I wasn’t always like the woman you’ve known for most of your life.”

The young woman nods. “Tell me your story, Grandmère. I know most of what Henry has spread about our family isn’t true. I’ve always known that and please don’t doubt that I know that.”

Cecily squeezes her hand, she knows what Elizabeth is talking about, and it relieves her greatly. She will never forgive Tudor for killing her son and turning him into a villain. She will never bow to him. She has never bowed to anyone. 

“Papa never talked about Grandfather. I don’t know why, probably because it pained him so much…but I really like to know about him at last. It’s a shame; I should have asked you about him earlier.”

“You probably should have, Elizabeth. He was wonderful. The day he died…a piece of me died with him. I’d known him for most of my life. My father became his warden when I was only two. He was always there.” Cecily bites her lip, not sure whether it is a good idea to talk about him, but she just has to. She just has to tell Elizabeth. Maybe Elizabeth will learn to understand her. Maybe Elizabeth will learn to understand her family. Maybe Elizabeth will learn to understand who she is.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” When Cecily nods and looks at granddaughter, Elizabeth has to hold back the tears. _So much her father. The same eyes, the same nose, the same smile, even the same hair, but there’s one thing I have given her. The self control. Edward would be so proud of her. He would be as proud as I am._

“Elizabeth, never forget what we are. We are survivors. You and I have survived a war…you and your sisters…you are the last Plantagenets. And pain is in our blood. It’s running through our veins, it is what keeps us going.” 

“Grandmère!” Elizabeth shakes her head. “Aren’t we so much more? We’re daughters, we’re sisters, we’re wives, and we’re mothers. There’s so much joy in it.” Elizabeth pauses for a second. “Tell me everything. From the very beginning, I want to know it all.” It’s the second time she asks her grandmother to tell her everything, but she doesn’t mind, maybe Cecily has not been ready. 

“You should make yourself comfortable, Elizabeth.” Cecily makes a noise that almost sounds like laughter to Elizabeth. Nothing has ever reminded Elizabeth of her father as much as her grandmother’s laughter and she prays it never ceases to do so.

“This is my…our story, Elizabeth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the wonderful artwork to this story here:
> 
> http://octoberinflorence.tumblr.com/post/90562696807/richardplantagent-you-knowthere-are-these
> 
> http://octoberinflorence.tumblr.com/post/90563757212/richardplantagent-elizabeth-never-forget-what
> 
> http://octoberinflorence.tumblr.com/post/90563496332/richardplantagent-she-looks-at-the-little
> 
> http://octoberinflorence.tumblr.com/post/90591098152/richardplantagent-ribbons-around-our-hearts-by
> 
> http://stardust-pond.tumblr.com/post/88020383397/richard-plantagenet-cecily-neville-ribbons


	2. A New Home

“But, Mama!” Trying to look as innocent and sweet as possible doesn’t work. Cecily should have known. “Cecily, pouting won’t help you.” The little girl cannot even tell how much she hates her lessons, even though her father insists on them. He wants her to be ‘smart and gracious.’ 

_“Never forget who you are, Cecily. You are a Neville, and being a Neville means being better.”_

Whenever she hears her father’s words, she rolls her eyes. As if a name would turn her into something better. And her mother is not just the same, which annoys the little girl even more. Joan Beaufort has always thought to be worth more than everyone else. She’s the grand-daughter of the great King Edward III, and the sister of King Henry IV. The illegitimacy doesn’t bother her at all, but it bothers Cecily. To her, it means only a little that she’s the cousin of King Hal, as she uses to call him. 

“Do not dare to object, my little dove.” Joan smiles and starts to braid her daughter’s hair. She’s supposed to look lovely. Her husband Ralph is bringing his ward Richard to Raby Castle. The boy has lived in with his stepmother for the past four years, and his visits to Raby Castle have been rather short. He’s about to stay with them at Raby. It is exactly what Ralph Neville and Joan Beaufort want. 

They have made these plans long ago. Cecily will marry Richard. 

“Ouch, Mama!” Cecily hisses as Joan pulls too hard at one of the strands of her blond hair. “You are quite impertinent for a six-year-old, my little dove.” Joan chides her daughter half-heartedly. “Your father will be back soon, and he will bring Richard. Do you still remember him?”

Cecily grunts, of course she remembers him. He’s that snobbish little boy that half of England wants to be the guardian of, and half of England hates her father for being the one to have control over the boy. “Don’t do that, Cecily. I thought you got along quite well. Don’t you like him?” 

“Not at all!” Joan laughs, pinching her daughter’s right cheek with her long, gracious fingers. “Mama!” Cecily turns away from her to examine her reflection in the mirror. Looking like she does now, she won’t be able to run. She likes to run; running clears her mind and gives her the feeling of being free…for once in her life. She loves to compete with her brothers, and she loves it even more to beat them. Often, she wonders whether this is the reason she’s closer to her brothers than she is to her sisters. 

Katherine, Eleanor, and Anne are the perfect daughters. Cecily likes to call them ‘the three Graces’. They may take after her father, and, according to the stable boy, may not be as pretty as Cecily is, but to her they seem to be the living perfection. Katherine and Eleanor have already been married off to men of her father’s choosing. It makes Cecily laugh that her oldest nephew is only a few months younger than she is.

Only Anne is still living with them, she’s only four years older than Cecily is, but she will be married soon, as well. “I’m going to be a duchess, Cecily! I deserve to be a duchess, don’t I? You, for certain, don’t deserve to be one, but I’m sure Papa will find some poor, unimportant Duke for you to marry.” These are the tempting moments in which Cecily just wants to stick out her tongue, or call Anne some mean names. 

“I don’t understand why I’m supposed to be so tarted up.” Cecily starts to pout again. “You are not ‘tarted up’. You look pretty, my darling.” The young girl rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. If only…

“Mama! Mama!” It’s her brother Edward. He’s only a year older than she is, and her favourite. 

_“I’m going to name one of my children after you, Edward!” “You have to be married first, and you’re only six. I don’t think that will happen so soon, but anyway, thank you, Cis.”_

“What is it, Edward?” He tries to catch his breath, and Cecily can’t help but think that she wouldn’t have to catch her breath. She could run for hours and still tell her mother without any delay what the rush is about.

“Papa…Papa and Richard…have arrived.” He gasps, and Joan joyfully claps her hands. “Just in time. Perfect. How very perfect.” She turns to Cecily again, raising one of her blond eyebrows. “Hush, get up, we will bid our new arrival the warmest welcome he’s ever seen. Get up, and hurry, but don’t push too hard.”

Again, Cecily can only roll her blue eyes. 

“Welcome home, my husband!” Joan beams at her husband…and Richard. Ralph Neville is a tall man, and Cecily always thinks he looks exactly like a tower. She feels so happy to have him back again; after all, she loves him very much and enjoys nothing more than to sit on his lap, listening to his stories. He is a wonderful storyteller. 

“It’s good to be back again.” He takes Joan’s hand and kisses it, just like he always does when he comes back after he’s been gone for a while. 

“Papa!” Cecily cannot resist and runs into her father’s arms, which he has just readily opened as soon as he’s heard her voice. “Ah, my little dove!” He gently nudges her nose with his. “I have missed you, Papa. Very much.” “And I’ve missed you, my little dove, but look whom I’ve brought with me.” He turns around and points at the young boy. He’s about ten; his short hair is as black as the feathers of the raven that Cecily has spotted yesterday. 

“This is Richard. I’m sure you remember Richard.” Cecily buries her head in the crook of her father’s neck, not wanting to look at him. Richard has noticed her behaviour, of course. After all, he’s not stupid; he knows she doesn’t like him…and he doesn’t like her either. She’s nothing like his sister Isabel, and he and Isabel have always gotten along very well. He doubts he will get along with her. 

And he is right. Cecily does everything she can to make Richard feel uncomfortable. She’s pretty convinced that she’s the best prank player in the whole kingdom, and Richard is just the perfect victim. 

“Come on, Edward! Hurry a bit!” Cecily laughs as she is running; she feels wild and free like the wind. The big trees around the castle will always be her favourite companions, they give her shelter when she wants to hide, and listen to her when no one else has the time. She cannot even tell how much her brother annoys her right now. He should run some more, she thinks. 

Cecily turns around in order to mock Edward as suddenly… “Ouch! For heavens sake!” Cecily lands flat on her back, her counterpart apparently as well. It’s Richard. Of course, it has to be Richard. Richard is everywhere. Cecily grunts, out of every person that resides in the castle, it has to be him. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He looks at her, and she can see the worry in his eyes. “No, I’m fine. Are you okay?” Richard nods, grinning. Cecily wants to say something, wants to tell him how stupid he is, but as he suddenly blushes, she follows his eyes and notices her dress. It’s torn up and he can see almost everything of both of her legs. 

Cecily starts to swear like a sailor and Richard bursts into laughter. “Come, I won’t tell…and I really didn’t see that much.” He holds out his hand, and Cecily grabs it. Maybe he’s not that annoying after all.


	3. Future and Change

_“So you didn’t like him at the beginning?” Elizabeth smiles, her long, gracious fingers playing with her gown. “Heavens, no. I couldn’t stand him at all. He was a whiny, spoilt child. He never talked and he looked quite snobbish. No, I thought I would never like him.” Cecily laughs, caught in her memories. “However, I came to like him…and probably even to love him very early.”_

Richard sighs, he’s alone, finally. It almost feels like he’s never actually alone at Raby. He misses his sister terribly, even after two endlessly long years. Every letter he receives feels a bit like home. He likes the Nevilles, but they’re not his family. His family is Isabel, and even his stepmother Maud, who has never treated him like a stepson. When he’s alone he wishes Maud would hug him again, like she used to. 

Richard has managed to form a kind of friendship with Cecily. He’s never thought this would be possible. He actually likes the wild little girl. She’s strong and determined, much like her father. 

“There you are!” He hears her voice and watches her climbing up the ladder. “I just couldn’t bear all the noise.” He starts to rub his temples, the only way to get rid of the pain that has started to form in his head. 

“I know…they can be pretty loud.”

Cecily sits down next to him, trying to look as graceful as possible. She has grown quite a lot, and even though her wild side is not as apparent as it used to be, it has not been tamed. “True, very true.” Richard mumbles. 

“Richard?” Cecily sounds pretty serious, but she has this talent to make even the little things sound serious. 

“What is it?”

“I have heard Mama and Papa talking about us. Apparently, they want us to get married.”

“Hmm.”

Cecily’s eyes widen. “Did you just say ‘Hmm’?” 

“Apparently.”

“Ugh.” Cecily falls back, taking a deep breath. 

Richard rarely speaks, she should have known. It takes ages to coax him into a proper conversation, and Cecily and her father are the only ones to manage that. Usually, it is one of his personal traits that Cecily likes very much, but today it just annoys her. If only he would open his mouth for once. 

“You don’t want to marry me.” It’s not a question, but one of his observations. 

“I didn’t say that.” Cecily is almost nine and thinks she’s already a grown up, but she’s still very much that wild child that refused to look at Richard when he first arrived at Raby. 

“So, you want to marry me.” A little smile starts to form on his lips. He’s even more amused because Cecily doesn’t reply. As he turns around, her eyes are closed, but her eyebrows are raised. She always does that, and he has to admit, he quite likes it. Richard has never thought about marriage, his head is filled with “knowledge and the art of fighting” as Ralph says. Therefore, he finds it hard to imagine himself marrying Cecily. She’s his friend. One of the best friends he’s ever had. 

“You know, Cissy, I haven’t thought about marrying anyone, so far. But, if I ever have to marry, I’d be glad to be married to you.” Richard lies back, next to Cecily. “I like it when you call me Cissy. It sounds lovelier than Cis.” Cecily pushes herself up to press a light kiss on Richard’s cheek. She laughs as he blushes. “I think, I have to go!”

Richard watches her as she leaves, still completely amazed by what she’s just done. 

Their betrothal is announced a few weeks later, and Cecily can’t help but grin at the thought of spending the rest of her life with him. 

Richard is quite relieved this doesn’t change when her father dies. He grieves the loss of the man he’s recognised as a second father, and he grieves because he knows how much it hurts Cecily. He prays he will be able to bring a smile back on her face someday. 

Joan Beaufort is devastated. She refuses to remarry, saying she wants to be focused on her children and Richard, whose wardship has been taken over by her, just like her husband has stated in his last will. She won’t deny Cecily and Richard the happiness they deserve. She would never admit it, but Cecily is her favourite daughter, because she somehow reminds her of her mother. Everything she wants is to see Cecily happy again. 

Her father’s death has changed her. She tries to be more like her older sister. She wants to be a real lady. She doesn’t like to run anymore. Not against Ned, and not even against Richard. Cecily thinks her father wouldn’t be proud of a daughter that runs around all the time. Richard cannot make her realise that her father has been proud of her and the way she’s been. 

“Cissy!” He sighs softly. Cecily bites her lip, not being able to look at him. She feels like she’s done something bad. Like someone who’s stolen a cake out of the kitchen. 

_She’s trying so hard not to be the child that she actually is. She’s so young. It’s been more than a year since he’s gone and she still suffers_. He thinks, sighing again. 

“I just have to grow up, Richard. That’s what Anne says.” 

Richard nods. He still remembers how he’s felt after his father died, but he feels that Cecily should be glad, she still has her mother, and her mother is doing the best that she can to keep her spirits high. Richard has never even met his own mother. Maud was the closest thing to a mother he’s ever had, and he loves her, but she isn’t his mother. 

“Your mother says you can still be like you’ve always been. She doesn’t want you to change.” _I don’t want you to change!_

Cecily sighs, she knows her mother loved her before, but she doesn’t only want to be loved by her, she wants to make her proud as well. She cannot find the words to explain this to Richard, and so, she remains silent.


	4. The Wedding

_Father died in October, and now I am supposed to be wed…in October._

Cecily starts to chew on her lips, a habit she has developed after her father has died. Richard has constantly made fun of this habit. She cannot believe she’s going to marry him. She was sure about it when she was a little girl, now she considers herself to be a woman and it feels surreal to marry the man she’s always considered to be her best friend. 

She chuckles a bit, which makes her mother pulling a bit harder at one of the strands of her hair. Cecily doesn’t even notice it, though. She’s lost in her memories, lost in the thought of how their friendship has formed. 

_I was running around, competing with Edward, as always. He was standing in my way and so we kind of…collided. He was very concerned about me and a little ashamed, as well, because my dress was torn up a bit and revealed my legs. He blushed and I swore like a sailor. That was how it started. That was the day he became my friend. I realised that I loved him about a year ago, when I was thirteen. I saw him with another girl, and I still cannot describe the feeling that burned in my chest._

Cecily is so lost in her thoughts that she still doesn’t notice anything. “Cecily!” Her mother’s voice pulls her back into reality. “What is it, my little dove?”

The young woman, as she considers herself to be a woman by now, smiles and can’t help but admire her mother for still calling her “my little dove.”

“It’s nothing, Mama. I’m very happy.” Joan sighs and gently strokes Cecily’s hair. “Your father would be so very proud of you, but still, there’s something we have to talk about. It’s the morning of your wedding, and I should have talked to you about this earlier, like I did with your sister, but you are still my little dove, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama, I do understand.” Cecily says softly. 

“You are still so very young. I wish you would wait to consummate your marriage. I’m sure Richard feels the same.”

“But, Mama, I am a woman.”

“Cecily, my little dove, you are still a girl. You may feel like you’re a grown up woman, and you may bleed, but take your time. Richard loves you enough to agree.”

Cecily rolls her eyes. She doesn’t exactly know whether it’s because her mother still considers her to be a child, or because of Richard's alleged feelings towards her. No, after seeing Richard with all these girls, kitchen maids, mostly, she is pretty sure he doesn’t love her. He cares for her, he sees her as his friend, but he is most likely not in love with her. 

“Mama?” Joan raises her eyes to her daughter, waiting for her to say something. “Where are we going to live?” Joan shrugs, she has not exactly thought about that, but she is sure Cecily and Richard will stay with her for a while. “Well, first you will stay with me at Raby…and then, we’ll see.” She smiles, kissing her daughter’s cheek. “I will leave you now; I want to know if everything is already prepared.”

Richard. His name is the only thing that floats through her head. _I will be your wife, and I promise you, I’m going to be a good wife._

Joan has to smile as she turns around for one last time before she leaves. 

Richard keeps wandering up and down in front of the little chapel. Cecily’s brother Edward is leaning against a wall, looking amused. “I’d never thought this marriage would make you feel so miserable…but I would probably feel the same if I had to marry Cecily.” Edward laughs, which somehow reminds Richard of a big, roaring bear. 

“It’s not that, you know that I like her, Edward.” You know that I love her! Is what he actually wants to say, but he cannot bring himself to confess this to Edward, even though he’s his best friend. “That is quite a good start for a marriage, isn’t it?” The younger man gently pats Richard’s shoulder. He considers himself to be happy that his wedding day is still quite far away from today.

Richard looks up as Edward nudges him with his elbow. “If you’d ask me, what you are not doing, I know, then I’d tell you that I’ve never seen her looking that beautiful.” Edward grins. Richard turns around and starts to smile. She is indeed beautiful. He wishes his sister Isabel would be here right now, so she could watch her little brother get married, but she is in confinement, awaiting the birth of her child. 

The thought of his upcoming niece or nephew makes him smile, and he cannot help but picture Cecily round with his child…but he’s vowed to wait. She is just fourteen and he doesn’t want her to be with child at that young age. Childbirth is still dangerous, even for older women, and he doesn’t want to lose her. 

Cecily smiles at him. She cannot even describe the warm and somehow dizzy feeling in her stomach. The way he looks at her…he might even love her after all. 

She starts to play with her wedding band. It’s simple but beautiful. The feast around her doesn’t tickle her attention. Richard barely speaks to anyone but her, and it makes her feel special, but she is still cautious. She will tell him later that there will be no other women but his wife; Cecily regards him to be hers alone. The ring around her finger proves it. Cecily has never been one to share what belongs to her. 

Her mother is smiling and chattering, glad to have fulfilled her husband’s last wish, her sisters are occupied with their own families and her brothers are enjoying the wine that has been ordered for this special occasion. Cecily sips at her own wine, she quite likes the taste and she likes to imagine Richard will like it too when he’ll kiss her. 

He gently takes her hand stopping her from playing with the simple golden ring that will now forever hold its place. Richard smiles at her, and now she is sure, he loves her.


	5. Gain and Loss

Cecily gasps angrily. “What do you mean?” “I mean we’re not going to consummate this marriage tonight.” Richard is still as calm and composed as ever and nothing has annoyed Cecily more than this. The rejection burns inside her and she wants to slap him across the face for hurting her pride. It’s what she values most, her pride and her grace and she has lost both in a single second. 

“Ha! I knew it. You are in love with another woman. All these girls I’ve seen you with, it’s one of them, isn’t it? Don’t deny it!” 

Cecily’s cheeks turn from red to crimson as he starts to laugh. “God, Cissy…” “Don’t call me that! You’ve lost every right to call me that!” She wants to throw her wedding ring at him, but somehow she cannot remove it. The rejection burns even hotter than before, now that he has laughed at her. He gets up, trying to calm her. 

He takes her hands and she tries to shake him off. “Just let me explain, Cissy.” He realises how much he’s hurt her as he sees the tears in her eyes. These beautiful blue eyes he loves so much. “I’m sorry.” He mutters softly, wiping away the tears on her face. Richard kisses Cecily’s eyes, her nose and finally her lips. 

“Just imagine I would get you pregnant…now…” He tries to explain, but it doesn’t have the effect he’s hoped for. “Pah! What would be so bad about that? Tell me!” “Yes, if you’d only let me!” He laughs again at her impatience. “You are so very young, and having a child now would be so dangerous. I cannot lose you, Cecily.” 

Cecily’s eyes widen and she looks at him in astonishment. “Why?” She asks, still sniffing a bit. “You silly girl.” He grins. “Because I love you, of course.” Cecily tries to hide her excitement as good as possible. He shall not see how much this makes her heart jump. “You don’t love me.” “I won’t deny that there have been other women, but now I’m yours, and I will always be, I promise.” He whispers before he kisses her lips again. Cecily cannot even describe how much she loves that sensation. 

“Just be patient…for a year or two, I promise you, I will wait.” He smiles and Cecily knows she can trust him. 

The first two years of their marriage aren’t a breeze. She cannot tell how very often he annoys her, and he cannot tell how very often she annoys him, but they often manage to go to bed, having settled their differences. Cecily is sixteen when he makes her a “real woman” as she puts it. She would have never thought her marriage bed to be such a pleasure, but every time he kisses her belly, she knows he’s making sure she’s going to enjoy it. 

They have settled at Fotheringhay Castle, a place they both love. Here, she realises she’s with child. It’s her first child and she cannot wait to hold it. Cecily has never seen herself as a mother, of course she’s always known that having children is her duty, but now she’s willing to embrace the idea of holding a baby in her arms, a baby that she loves with all her heart, after all, it’s Richard’s baby as well. He has already noticed that Cecily has changed. 

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?” He smiles, watching as she is combing her long, blonde hair. “Oh, I don’t think so. There’s nothing you wouldn’t already know.” Cecily cannot help but smile one of her mischievous smiles, her eyes following him as he moves closer to her. She purrs Richard’s name as he pushes her hair away to gently kiss her neck. 

Richard chuckles at her sharp intake of breath as he cups her breasts. Cecily has long found out they are her most sensitive spot at the moment, and Richard knows that women are sensitive whenever they carry a child. He laughs and releases her, only to pull her up and into his arms to spin her around. 

Her blonde hair is swirling around and Cecily wonders why she’s even combed it. “I knew it!” Richard murmurs against her lips, his hand carefully touching her flat belly. “When do you think…?” “I don’t know exactly. The midwife said something around November.” Richard gently kisses her forehead. “You know that we cannot…not anymore…because the Church…” He stammers like a little boy. “I know, but you can still sleep in my chamber until I’m in confinement. In fact, I want you to sleep in my chamber.”

Richard lets go of her and examines her body with his eyes. “You are afraid I’ll take a mistress, aren’t you?” Cecily raises her chin, she thinks she’s too proud to be married to man who takes mistresses, but she has realised that it’s a common thing…especially when a wife cannot satisfy the needs of her husband. It still hurts. 

“I’m not going to take one. I promise because I know it would hurt your pride…and none of the girls around are as pretty as my proud Cissy.” He grins, pulling her close again to kiss her. 

“You better keep your promise, Richard!”

It’s one of these evenings she goes to bed angry. She doesn’t understand why it is so important to leave for court, especially now. The Child King, as she calls him, is supposed to be crowned as the King of France in December. There are still some months to go until it is actually December, and she doesn’t understand why Richard already has to go to court now, though he’s promised to be back as soon as possible. The boy won’t even remember who will be with him, and who won’t. After all, he’s only ten and has probably inherited the sanity problems of his mother’s family. 

She feels terrible, and all she wants is Richard by her side. Richard who would gently rub the little bulge and tell her that the nausea will fade eventually. But he’s packing and she’s told him to sleep in his own chamber because she’s so angry. He’ll leave tomorrow…and she will be alone. 

Richard is angry as well as he straddles his horse on the next morning. Cecily is not there to tell him goodbye. _This terrible stubbornness! She’s a Neville through and through_. He thinks, grunting. He prays their child won’t be as stubborn as its mother is. He looks back for one last time before he leaves. 

The pain Cecily feels is different from everything she’s felt before and she can’t help but scream for help. She never screams, but as she feels the warm blood running down her legs, she knows she has every reason to do so. And Richard is not there. 

She has lost the child, her first child. She won’t hold it in her arms. She won’t sing lullabies to help him or her fall asleep. She feels like a failure. She has failed everyone, and most importantly…Richard. She has failed Richard. Cecily feels the heat of the fever taking over her body. She’s still bleeding and she cannot stop the tears. 

She opens her eyes as she feels someone wiping her forehead with a soft cloth. “Richard.” “Shh, yes, I’m here.” “But you should be on your way to London.” She murmurs, she’s not sure whether this is a hallucination caused by the fever or reality. “They sent someone after me and I returned immediately. You are more important to me. I’ve sent a messenger to the King that I’m indisposed at the moment.”

“It’s all my fault.” Cecily groans as she tries to move. Her whole body feels numb. “How can you say that? It just wasn’t God’s plan to give us a child now, but we will have children. We will fill nurseries with our children, I promise.” Richard pulls her into his arms. _Don’t take her away from me, Lord. Please, don’t make me lose her. I could not bear it_. He prays. Cecily’s small hand slips under his shirt to feel his heartbeat. 

“I’m glad you’re here.”


	6. The First Years

Cecily covers her eyes with her hands. Even though it’s February, the sun is shining bright in the sky. She’s waiting for Richard’s return. She didn’t accompany him to France to see the child king’s coronation. Months have passed since she’s lost her child, but her health has only improved a bit. Her mother has cared for her during Richard’s absence and now she feels strong again. 

“There, Mama! Look, they’re coming!” Cecily smiles, pointing at something Joan cannot actually see, but she nods anyway. “I’m dying to know everything about France, Mama.” Cecily feels like a young girl again. She would love to run to him, to almost drag him down from his horse and pull him into her arms again. “Why don’t you do it?” Her mother grins and nudges her gently into his direction.

“I can’t, Mama. I’m a duchess.” Cecily smiles back, her eyes are almost closed because of the sun. Joan chuckles, it’s the first time she’s heard Cecily refer to herself as a duchess. Her heart feels heavy as she realises that her little girl has grown up. _Well, almost grown up_. She thinks. 

Richard reins in his horse, and Cecily can’t help but run to him. He looks tired, worry lines are carved into his forehead, and he hasn’t shaved for a while. He dismounts his horse as fast as he can and hands the reins over to the stable boy. Cecily throws her arms around him, pressing her body close to his. 

“How are you?” He whispers softly. Of course, he has received her letters, telling him that she is fine…but he has also received the Countess’ letters, telling him about Cecily’s actual condition. 

“Better.” She smiles and kisses him, happy to have him with her again. 

He turns towards her mother; after all, he has to be grateful and wants her to know that he really is. “Ah, Countess, I guess I have to thank you for being with Cecily during my absence.” He bows before Joan, making her smile. “It was my pleasure, Richard.” 

“Tell me about France.” Cecily demands a little later, as she is watching him taking a bath. “Paris is…well, it’s Paris. A bit dirty, if you ask me, but which bigger city isn’t?” Richard shrugs. 

“And the King?” 

“Too small for this heavy crown…” He murmurs and seems to get lost in his thoughts again. “John, the Duke of Bedford should be regent again. He’s a good man and he cares deeply for his nephew.” Richard shrugs. 

“Humphrey, the Duke of Gloucester is probably the worst influence this little boy can have. I don’t like him. He’s all hungry and greedy for power. He doesn’t care what’s best for the King…or even for England. He just cares about his own wealth and power.” _And he constantly reminded me of whose son I am…and what my father did._

Cecily nods, grateful that Richard shares his thoughts with her, even though she knows there’s something he doesn’t want to reveal…not even to her. 

“I already suspected this after he made the parliament introduce this bill that makes a remarriage almost impossible for poor Catherine.” Cecily murmurs. 

“It’s utter nonsense to declare that she cannot marry without the King’s consent…and that the little boy cannot give his consent as long as he hasn’t reached maturity.” She continues, eyeing Richard. 

“You’re right. It is utter nonsense, just because Edmund Beaufort wanted to marry her. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore now.” He grins, letting his fingers run through his soaked hair. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that the Dowager Queen has found someone to share her bed with, and that this is already bearing fruits.” 

“You mean she’s pregnant?” Cecily can’t help but laugh. “Let me guess, everybody noticed, except Gloucester?”

Richard nods, he thinks of their child…the child they’ve lost. “Yes, and it’s not the first pregnancy, though it will be her first baby. The father is the keeper of her wardrobe, Owen Tudor. A Welshman…I’ve met him once at court, he seems to be nice, but his French is terrible.” 

“The keeper of her wardrobe?” Cecily echoes, an amused smile dancing on her lips. “Oh, this is wonderful!” Cecily presses out, she’s barely able to speak because it is making her laugh so very much. Richard cannot help but join in. 

“Come here!” He laughs, pulling a squealing Cecily into the warm water. 

“Richard! Just look at my gown!” 

Richard laughs, “The keeper of your wardrobe has decided you are wearing too much!”

A few weeks later, Richard’s waving a letter, laughing. “Bedford wrote to me. It seems that Catherine has given birth to a son, Cecily. She’s named him Edmund.”

Cecily is not able to laugh like Richard does. She cannot forget that she is not able to hold a child now as well. She’s tried to suppress these feelings so many times, but she cannot do it any longer. It pains her that she is still not with child again, after all these nights they’ve shared a bed with each other. 

“And I am still not pregnant. Richard, what if I cannot have a child anymore? You need an heir or the dukedom will-…” 

“Shh!” He stops her. “You worry too much about these things, Cissy. I’m sure we will have children, and we are still young, we have plenty of time.” 

He gently kisses her nose while he’s stroking her blushed cheeks. “I really want to have a child, Richard.” She murmurs as she snuggles close to him. 

Cecily does not even want to have a child for his sake, but for her own. She wants to be a mother; she wants to hold a child. Richard can only watch her doubt everyone and everything as she loses another child. He has finally the full control over his inheritance; he is finally not dependent on anyone but himself. Still, he cannot help the feeling that his position adds more to the weight on her shoulders. 

Every letter they receive from her sister seems to tell them about a new baby, about a new pregnancy. Every time she reads one of her letters, he can see something breaking inside Cecily, but she’s keeping herself together. She’s always kept herself together…ever since the day of her father’s death. 

He hears her even breath as she is sleeping next to him, her hand never releasing its tight grip on his shirt. Even in her sleep he can see the little furrows on her forehead. He kisses each of them gently, careful not to wake her. A little smile forms on her lips and she snuggles even closer to him.

 _You are my future, and I will protect my future_. He thinks, while a deep growl forms in the back of his throat.


	7. Home

“Bedford is dead.” Are the words that change Richard and Cecily’s life. It’s almost October as the message of Bedford’s death reaches them…again, Cecily cannot help but think how many changes every October seems to bring. Richard grieves over the loss of a friend; Cecily grieves over the life they’ve had. 

She accompanies him to France this time. Watches him work hand in hand with some of Bedford’s captains to keep Henry’s French possessions, she watches him fuming because he has to pay for everything with his own money. He fights for a crown that won’t support him, and soon, he has grown tired of it. 

She gives birth to her first child, a boy they name Henry to honour the king. An honour that will not be returned. Henry is a weak little boy who leaves them after only a few months, leaving Richard to curse France and everything he’s done here. His service is extended from twelve months to twenty four and in the end, they almost stay for three years. 

Cecily finds herself pregnant again, and Richard wants to send her back to Fotheringhay, he doesn’t want his child to be born in France. He’s afraid he’ll lose Cecily if she gives birth in France. 

“I don’t want to leave you!” She protests, her hand resting on the rounding of her belly. “And I don’t want to lose another child. Or you. We’re not going to argue about this.” He snaps, not willing to let Cecily have her way. 

“Pah.” Cecily folds her arms. She’s doing her best to keep the tears from falling, but the pregnancy leaves her emotions, which she loves to keep for herself so often, bare to him. “I can’t stop thinking about him.” Richard murmurs and buries his head in his hands. “I am sure we would be playing with him at Fotheringhay now if it wasn’t for France.” 

“Henry.” Cecily whispers, and again, her hand finds solace at her belly, where her child is kicking already. Never has anything in her life relieved her so much. He pulls her close, so she’s standing between his legs while he’s sitting on their bed. He places gentle kisses on her belly and smiles, as he feels the kicks as well. 

“Please.” He murmurs as her hands find purchase in his hair. “Yes, I’ll go…but I’ll never share my bed with you again, if you don’t send me as many letters as possible.” She smiles, pulling his head up to kiss him before he can reply. 

She leaves to return to Fotheringhay the next day, knowing it will be a long time until she’s going to see him again.

August brings joy into Cecily’s life again. She tosses and turns, but she keeps herself together once again. She doesn’t care that it’s a girl. She only cares about the breathing of her daughter, about the steady and strong beating of her heart. She sends a letter to Richard, to let him know about their child. 

Richard can’t help but smile as he reads her letter. Her fine, even handwriting makes him feel like she’s close to him. 

_She’s a fine, vital girl. Healthy and strong. I wish you could see her, Richard. Mama says she looks a lot like Papa. I want to honour your mother, Richard. I think her name should be Anne. Her name is already Anne, everybody calls her so. Oh, how I wish you could see her!_

Richard laughs as he reads the almost commanding words in Cecily’s handwriting. The name Cecily has given their daughter makes his heart a little heavy. His mother’s name…the mother he’s never really met…But, yes, their little daughter is an Anne, he is sure. He’s as sure about his daughter’s name as he is about the fact that he’ll return soon. He yearns to see his daughter, to hold Cecily in his arms again. He’s never thought he’d yearn to be with his family, but then, Cecily and his daughter are the first real family he’s ever had. 

He returns to England in November, eager to meet his daughter. He hasn’t shaved for a while as he arrives at Fotheringhay, but he immediately rushes into the nursery tower, without even wasting a thought on refreshing. He finds Cecily there, holding their daughter, gently talking to her. 

“Richard!” He pulls her and the baby into his arms with a swift motion. The little girl squeals as her father takes her out of her mother’s arms. Richard holds Anne in the air, laughing as he really looks at her for the first time. “Definitely your father!” He grins, cradling his daughter in his arms. “I knew I would love to see you holding her.” Cecily smiles, gently stroking her daughter’s back. “And I knew I would love to hold her.” 

Richard looks at the empty cradle in Cecily’s bedchamber. She has insisted that their daughter sleeps in her nursery tonight. 

_“Tonight you are only mine.”_

Richard chuckles as he watches Cecily unbraid her hair. He loves watching her, it’s his guilty pleasure, he has to admit. He feels better now, he’s taken a bath, has shaved and he is finally home. He has met his daughter, and he finally feels at peace, at least for a bit. Soon he will hold his Cecily in his arms again. The anticipation makes him shiver. 

“Come here!” He laughs as Cecily turns to him, her loose hair falling down her shoulders in soft waves. “You are beautiful.” He murmurs, suppressing a laugh as she blushes. 

“I still can make you blush.” 

“After all these years.” 

“It feels like yesterday.”

He pulls her close and finally kisses her lips. Cecily gasps as she feels his lips wander down her chin, to her neck and her collarbone. She is glad she only wears her shift…and he has left his doublet behind a long time ago. His hand wanders to the straps of her shift, playing with them, until an annoyed groan leaves Cecily’s lips. 

“Tsk, still my impatient little girl.” He grins, but his voice can barely hide his excitement. 

“Some things never change, Richard.”

She turns away in a swift and elegant motion. Richard wants to protest, but Cecily’s finger on his lips stops him. She kisses him again, pulling his shirt out of his breeches at the very same time. She’s not willing to wait any longer, not now, not after having waited for so long. 

He helps her pulling his shirt over his shoulder, and Cecily can already feel his arousal pressing against her as he pulls her close again. A long, fine scar is covering his left upper arm. Cecily’s fingers run gently over it, she feels like she is discovering his body once again. His muscles feel like they’re about to burst. 

A deep growl escapes him as her hand wanders down his chest. “You’re wearing way too much.” He presses out, it almost sounds like a hiss. Cecily laughs and turns away from him, it’s too surprising to him to catch her and keep her close to him. Suddenly she feels an urge to hurry and get out of her shift. Her hands are trembling as she lets the straps slide down her shoulders. 

“You’re so very beautiful.” His fists are shaking and he’s trying to keep everything under control, but he just can’t hold it back any longer. With a swift motion he’s with her, lifting her up and carrying her over to the bed. 

“No more games, you little minx.” He growls, kissing her breasts. He can’t help but admire her curves and the softness of her body. Cecily gasps as his lips close around her nipple, caressing, and teasing it. Little moans keep escaping her, as his lips let go of her breast, wandering down her belly. 

“Richard!” She gasps as she feels his lips touching her most intimate part. A smirk dances on his lips and his head dips down between her thighs once again. Cecily is not able to describe the tension that is coiling inside her belly. Her breath is ragged, and her hands find purchase in his dark curls. The muscles of her belly tighten and her hips buck against his mouth. Cecily groans, she is almost not able to stand the sensation. _Richard won’t stop_. She thinks, the last thought she is able to form inside her brain. 

The tension explodes, and Cecily can’t help but cry out. Her body is still tense, but eager to welcome him back. She pulls at the black curls to pull him close to her, to pull him close to kiss him. She has hardly regained her senses as he lets go of her to get rid of his breeches. 

He positions himself between her thighs, entering her with one smooth thrust. She wraps her legs around his hips, pulling him even closer, making them both moan. “Richard…” she murmurs as he begins to move _so slowly_ Cecily is sure she will never come to her senses again. 

Richard still wants to keep it under control, wants her to have her pleasure as well, but as her short fingernails scrape over his back, he loses all control; his thrusts become faster, harder. Cecily raises her hips to meet his thrusts. Their movements fit together, just as they do. Their bodies are made for one another, they are one, and no one else could ever take the other’s place. 

Cecily’s inner muscles tighten around Richard, and with a horse groan, he spills inside her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. His shoulders tremble, every muscle in his body is taut as he finally collapses against her.

Cecily gently plays with his hair, wrapping a strand of it around her finger. “You’re home.” She whispers softly, as he rises up to kiss her again.


	8. Grief

Cecily puts the letter down, her head is spinning and her heart has never felt so heavy. She buries her face in her hands, trying desperately not to cry. 

_Mama is dead._

She will never see her mother again. Her beautiful mother. Joan Beaufort is gone. She won’t ever see the child that is growing under Cecily’s heart. She’s only had a year with her granddaughter. Cecily can’t help but think how selfish she is, all she wants is her mother being with her. 

She’s known it immediately as the messenger arrived, as he brought the message from her brother Edward, with whom her mother has lived the past years, that something is wrong. Silent tears run down her face, and not even the kicks of the child she’s carrying can calm her. She hears the door crack, followed by Richard’s footsteps. 

“Cecily!” He’s with her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her. He is used to the unpredictability of her feelings while she’s with child, but he’s never seen her like this. He gently lifts up her chin, to be able to look into her eyes. The most beautiful blue eyes he’s ever seen. They’re red rimmed, and he knows why. “She’s gone.” He murmurs, pulling Cecily close again.

“Why does she have to go now?” She sobs, trying to wipe away her tears. Richard’s hand slips to her belly, even the child seems to feel its mother’s pain. “I am so sorry, my love.” 

“I will miss her, Richard.” 

“I know, but you’ve had her for such a long time.” Richard pauses for a second; he has to think of his mother…the mother who died giving birth to him. 

“I’m sorry, Richard, I didn’t want to…” “Shh!” He interrupts her, gently kissing away the tears. “It’s alright. You’ll always have me, Cissy.” Cecily snuggles close to him, she would never admit it to him, but she would always believe anything he tells her. 

Snow has covered the grounds the night Cecily’s pains start. Richard is trying to sleep in his chamber. He doesn’t like being away from Cecily, and now that they have sent word to him that she is in labour, he knows he can forget about falling asleep. He leaves for the little chapel, where he will pray for a safe delivery. 

Cecily knows immediately as her pains start that something is wrong. It’s too early. Her child shouldn’t come now. _Not now!_ The birth of her daughter hasn’t been that hard, and she knows she won’t be able to hold her child for long. The little boy she delivers in the early morning is weak and his cries are almost not audible. All her fears have come true as she holds the tiny body close to her chest. 

“Send for Richard.” She murmurs, keeping her eyes closed to avoid the tears. _If only Mama was here_. She thinks, as she hears hurried footsteps. Richard’s breath is uneven and his heart seems to stop for a second. “Oh, Cecily!” He stumbles to her bed, falling on his knees in front of it.

“He won’t live long, Richard. I have failed…again…” Richard shakes his head; he is not able to speak as he carefully takes the little boy out of Cecily’s arms. “Fetch a priest.” He murmurs, not able to hide the pain in his voice. Richard gently wipes the sweat from Cecily’s forehead. “And a physician, hurry!” He snaps as he notices the temperature of her skin. He’ll probably lose his son today, but he won’t lose his wife. 

Their son is christened Henry, just before he closes his eyes and takes his last breath. Richard feels the urge to cry like a wounded animal, but he bites back the pain, pulling Cecily close. He has to be strong, for Cecily, for Annie…for his family. 

“I’m glad you are here, Anne.” Richard murmurs as his sister-in-law approaches him. 

“I’m glad you wrote. Where is she?”

“In her chamber, she refuses to leave it.” Richard points at Cecily’s chamber and Anne can see how strained his nerves are. He’s suffering, and Anne feels terribly sorry for her brother-in-law. 

“Well, it’s been much for her lately. Mama’s death…and then the child…I will get her on her feet again, I promise. How is her health doing?”

“She’s still weak. Her health won’t improve. I’m afraid…”

“She’s a Neville, Nevilles are strong and so is she. Don’t worry, Richard.”

Richard nods and Anne can’t help but feel sorry for him. He looks like the little boy who has arrived at Raby so many years ago. Helpless, alone, with no one to turn to. Anne pats his shoulder before she knocks at the door of Cecily’s chamber and enters without waiting for her sister’s consent. 

“Anne!” 

“Hello, my little dove.” Anne smiles, knowing how much Cecily loves to be called little dove. 

“That was Mama’s name for me…” Cecily’s lips tremble and she can barely stop the tears from falling. 

“Cecily, stop it. Mama’s gone, yes, but she’s had a good life. A very good life. Papa loved her so very much; she had a bunch of wonderful children, and grandchildren that made her the happiest woman on earth. It was time for her to go.” Anne sinks on her knees in front of Cecily. Her younger sister is sitting in her favourite chair, wrapped in a blanket. 

“But she couldn’t see me having a son, Anne.” 

“Oh, Cecily! Do you really think this would have mattered to her? She loved little Annie so much. She always talked about her, and whenever you visited and brought her along, Mama was the happiest woman on earth.”

Cecily bites back the tears. “I have lost three children now, Anne. I’ve failed Richard three times.” 

“Oh, you silly little girl! That is nonsense. You haven’t failed Richard. You are so very young. You can still have children.” Anne sighs and gets on her feet again. 

“That is what happens to us women, we lose children. Mama has lost children, I have lost children, and you will lose more children…but you will also have children to ease the pain. Now it’s only Annie, but there will be more. There will be boys and girls. I’m sure Richard loves you so much he can’t take his hands off of you and he will make you many children.” 

Cecily smiles and Anne can see the old self of her sister.

“There’s my fierce little sister. The one who always pulled at my hair and called me the meanest names.” Anne laughs and gently nudges Cecily’s nose with hers. 

“Do me favour, Cis. Don’t forget Richard. I know you are hurt, but so is he. He has also lost a son, and he has almost lost you. He needs you now.” Anne gently tucks a strand of Cecily’s hair behind her ear before she kisses her sister’s forehead and turns to leave.

“Anne?”

“Yes, my little dove?”

“Will you send Richard to me?”

“Of course, I will.”

Cecily struggles to get out of the blanket as the door opens. “Richard!” She opens her arms, unable to say anything, but she doesn’t even have to. She can feel his arms wrap around her, his head buried in her hair. She realises immediately how healing his touch is. She has refrained from touching him, and even worse, letting him touch her after the death of their son. She cannot even tell him how much she regrets it.

“I’m so sorry, Richard, I…” 

“You don’t have to be. Just don’t ever lose your spirits again…and never, never push me away again, Cissy.” He murmurs softly, pulling her close to kiss her. Cecily leans her forehead against his. “Never again.”


	9. Rouen

“Rouen? We are going to live in Rouen?” Cecily’s eyes are wide. 

“Yes, I am the King's lieutenant and governor general of France now.” Richard looks as if he is about to sulk again.  
“So, we’re going to live in Rouen, then!” Cecily smiles, letting herself sink onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and gently nudges his chin with her nose. 

“I still don’t like France…and I hate the prospect of living there.” He grumbles. Cecily gently starts to stroke his cheek.  
“Maybe this time it will be better. Let’s see it as a new start with France.” She laughs. Her laughter is contagious and Richard can’t help but join in. 

“I just hope Annie will not get a French accent.”

Rouen is not as terrible as Richard has imagined it to be. He has to leave for a military campaign at the end of July. He kisses Annie and Cecily goodbye, even though he still feels reluctant about leaving them behind. Cecily lifts Annie up and places her on her hip. “Seems we’re alone now, sweetheart.” 

“So, you’ve left your wife behind, York.” One of the men grins and pats his shoulder. “Do you think it’s wise to leave such a pretty woman alone? Every man would like to pluck the rose, I like to think.” He laughs and Richard can only clench his fist. “Watch your tongue, man!” He growls. He cannot stand the men he has to cope with. If only he could return to his little family. 

“If I were you, I would leave the camp for a few days. We won’t move until next week anyway.” He hears the voice of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset. “How long does it take you?” “I guess two days from here.” Richard murmurs. He actually cannot stand Somerset, he doesn’t even know why, but right now, he would listen to anyone who’d tell him to be with Cecily now. 

“Then go.” 

“I will.”

Cecily turns in her bed. She cannot sleep, not with Richard not lying beside her. For a moment, she is tempted to sneak into the nursery tower and fetch Annie, but her little girl is sound asleep and she doesn’t want to wake her. Cecily sighs, turning around once more. 

Richard has pushed himself to make the journey as fast as he can. The guards he has positioned at the gates recognise him immediately and step aside, and he doesn’t waste any time as he throws the reins of his horse into the hands of the young stable boy, who is still not completely awake and thus slightly confused. 

He takes a deep breath; all he wants to be is calm and composed, just like he always is…and suddenly he just wants to watch her sleeping, doesn’t want to wake her. He steps into her chamber, trying to be as quiet as possible. He carefully sheds his doubled, his shirt, and his boots, and somehow he manages to do it without making a sound. 

Richard slips into her bed, wrapping his arms around her. Cecily turns, she doesn’t know whether she’s dreaming or not. “Richard…” she murmurs, touching his face. “I couldn’t be without you. That’s what you are doing to me.” He growls, rolling on top of her. Cecily’s arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as he presses his lips against hers. 

He struggles to get Cecily’s night shift off of her, growling as he has finally managed to throw it away from the bed. Cecily gasps as he cups her breast, rubbing her nipple with the pad of his thumb until he continues to caress it with his lips, gently sucking and nibbling at it. Her hands find purchase in his hair, as his hand wanders down her belly. “Richard!” She cries as one finger slips inside. 

He groans as he feels the growing wetness between her legs, he lets another finger slip inside, slowly moving them in and out, making Cecily buck against his hand, eager to feel more of it. As his thumb starts to rub Cecily’s most sensitive spot, she can’t hold it back anymore. Cecily’s climax doesn’t take long, and she is almost not able to breathe. Her heart is beating faster and she feels completely content with her life. She doesn’t even notice how Richard gets rid of his breeches. 

Richard enters her with a swift thrust, not slowing down as he starts to move. Cecily cannot help but moan from feeling so filled. She grabs his shoulder to keep track with his movements. He grunts and his thrusts become harder and faster. Cecily’s head falls back against the pillow, she feels so close – feels like she cannot take it any longer as he suddenly rolls around and she is straddling him. 

“Richard…” Her breath is ragged as she sinks down on him, moving her hips in the pace he has set for her. His hands wander up her body, gently stroking her sides just before they reach their destination and cup her breasts, and he growls as he keeps thrusting upwards into her. Cecily knows exactly what he needs as she picks up a faster pace. Her fingers are buried in his chest, trying to give her the strength she needs not to collapse immediately. 

She moans as her inner muscles tighten around him and Richard wraps his arms around her, thrusting a few more times until he is spent. Cecily gently runs her hand through his hair, kissing his forehead before he sinks back against the pillows, pulling her with him. 

“You are mine.” He murmurs as he pulls her close to kiss her, showing her that she is his, only his. 

Cecily gently strokes her rounded belly. She feels healthy and strong, but her heart is heavy. None of her letters seems to have reached Richard. He probably doesn’t even know she’s with child again. And she’s heard all the rumours. They don’t know about the night he returned to her. _I wouldn’t believe it as well, if he hadn’t woken me up to kiss me and tell me goodbye the next morning_. She thinks.

Everyone is looking at her, disgusted of her rounded belly and her alleged adultery. But she knows, and Richard will know, that the child in her womb is his. She has conceived it the night her husband’s returned to her, unbeknownst to everyone else. 

“Hello.” She smiles gently as she feels the baby kick. The first kick, oh how much she wishes Richard to be there. She still remembers how excited he’s been about feeling Annie’s first kick. She hears some noise in the courtyard and gets up. Richard is back! “Seems like you have a wonderful timing, my little one.” Cecily laughs an easy laughter, gently rubbing her belly. 

“Annie, Papa is home!” She smiles and fetches her little daughter, who excitedly repeats the word “Papa.” She regrets not being able to run, the baby inside her belly makes it impossible. Her breath is uneven as she finally reaches the courtyard where Richard is giving orders. Annie squeals as she sees her father, and he turns immediately. 

Cecily cannot even tell how much she’s missed his smile. Richard’s eyes wander down her body, and stop where no dress could conceal the rounding of her belly. His lips open in surprise before they curl into a wide smile. Cecily has to put Annie on the ground because she’s struggling to get free and run to her father. Richard laughs as he snatches her from the ground and spins around. In the next second, he’s with Cecily, pressing heated kisses on her lips.

Richard’s eyes widen as he touches Cecily’s belly. 

“Hello, little one. Seems you are quite strong already.” 

“Yes, he is. He actually started kicking just a few minutes ago. He knew you are back.” 

“He? You’re sure?” 

Cecily laughs. “Oh, trust me, it will be a boy.” 

Later, after Richard has brought their little girl into her nursery, under her protest, of course, Cecily snuggles close to him while he’s gently stroking her belly, smiling at each kick he feels. 

“There are rumours, Richard.” Cecily murmurs. 

“Rumours?” 

“They say I’ve been unfaithful. They say this is the baby of some common archer. They say I’m nothing but a common…” She gulps, not able to finish the sentence. 

Richard closes his eyes, trying to pray the anger away. One of his hands clenches, and he has to do everything to stop himself from shaking. He takes a deep breath. 

“I don’t care what they say. I know where I’ve been at the time of conception. I know I’ve been in your bed. I know this child is mine.” He closes his eyes again.

“They will be punished if they ever say that again. Don’t you worry, Cissy. I would never doubt you. I know you are faithful, and…hey, look at me.”

Richard carefully puts his hand under her chin to lift it up and make her look at him. He gently kisses the tears away. _I am so very glad to have you back again, Richard_. Cecily thinks and snuggles close to him again. 

Cecily is quite exhausted, but she has only ever been that happy at the same time once before. She has given birth to a boy. He seems to be bigger and stronger than the boys she’s had before, but he is also a little sickly. 

“Will you please send for Richard?” She murmurs, and the midwife nods. Cecily likes the midwife, an elderly woman who has a bunch of children herself…and who doesn’t care about the rumours. “Of course, I will, my Lady.” She smiles with her heavy French accent, before she waves at her helper to send someone. 

Richard is out of breath as he reaches the birthing chamber. The boy they’ve sent to him has told him about the birth of his son…and every time after the birth of a son, he’s had to be worried about Cecily. He is rather surprised as he finds her looking calm and content. 

“There’s your father, little one.” She smiles as Richard slips into her bed. He can’t believe Cecily is fine, he cannot believe everything is fine. He touches her forehead, more than glad to find its temperature is _normal_. He is a grown man, he already has had children, but he feels like a young boy again. 

“He looks like Edward.” Richard grins as Cecily hands the boy over to him. 

“He does, indeed…but he’s also rather sickly. What do you want to name him?” She sighs. 

“As he looks like your brother, he has to be an Edward, of course. I’m sure he will grow out of it, my love…but a christening should happen as soon as possible.” It’s almost as if he could read her mind. Cecily nods, tears in her eyes because of the baby’s name. Yes, an early christening would be the best thing to do. Richard wants to say something the very moment their boy opens his eyes and he just gasps instead. 

“What is it?” 

“He’s got my mother’s eyes. Well, at least he has Isabel’s eyes…and my father always said Isabel has my mother’s eyes.” He murmurs. 

Cecily snuggles close to them, and Richard leans his head against hers, Edward sleeping in his arms.


	10. Life Changes

Richard skims through the documents he’s taken from his chamber to Cecily’s. He’s sitting in her bed, with Cecily snuggled close to him. Her breath is calm and she finally seems to be able to sleep a bit. Annie and their boys are playing in front of the bed. Richard keeps an eye on them, especially since Edmund is just able to crawl, which annoys Edward sometimes. All he wants to do is running around with his brother. 

He smiles, as Edward gently pats Edmund’s head. He knows it better, but sometimes it feels like their boys are twins. They are only a year apart, and Richard can’t help but think they have grown closer every day of their life. Cecily stirs a bit and groans, prompting him to place the documents on the little table next to the bed and wrap his arms around her. 

“Tell me it will fade.” She murmurs and buries her head against his chest, her fingers grabbing his shirt. “It will fade soon, love.” Richard kisses her temple and gently starts to rub her swollen belly. “I wasn’t that sick with Edward or Edmund. I’m sure it’s a girl.” Cecily mumbles and Richard chuckles a bit at that. 

“I hate you!” Cecily growls against his chest. “You’ve made me fat and you’ve made me feel sick.”

Richard cannot help but laugh now. “Oh, as far as I remember, you’ve had your part in this as well.” He lifts up her chin to kiss her. “And I quite like making you fat.” Cecily sighs as he starts to stroke her belly again, which seems to relax the child. 

“Mama sick!” Cecily raises her head to see Edward standing next to the bed. “Yes, love. Mama is sick.” She replies, smiling at the little sunshine. “Don’t like that.” Edward murmurs and starts to climb onto the bed. Neither Richard, nor Cecily, make any attempt to help him, it would only end in a very angry Edward. He wants to do everything on his own. Even Richard and Cecily’s attempts to help him take his first steps have ended in tears. 

Edward has ‘conquered’ the bed pretty quickly and snuggles close to his mother. Annie, who has watched the scene from a distance, drops her dolls and follows her brother’s example. Soon, both children are snuggled against Cecily, and only Edmund remains sitting on the floor. He’s too small to follow them, and little sobs start to shake the little body. Richard sighs, smiling. 

“I’m going to fetch Edmund.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss on Cecily’s forehead. “Hey, little one.” He coos and Edmund stops to sob immediately. Cecily cannot help but admire his qualities as a father. Their children adore him as much as she does. Richard picks Edmund up and the boy’s little fingers bury immediately in his father’s shirt, grabbing it tightly. 

Richard enjoys nothing more than having his family around. Every time he has to leave for a campaign, he misses them terribly. Little moments like these are what he cherishes the most. He forgets about the documents he has placed on the nightstand for a little while. _Let the king be the king for once_. He thinks and starts to make some weird faces, which make his children laugh and Cecily role her eyes, smiling. 

Their daughter is born in April, and Richard thinks he will never be able to stop smiling. Cecily’s been right, and she is quite proud of it. “What do you want to name her?” Richard asks, bent over the cradle. “Hmm…” It doesn’t even surprise her that he’s asked her to name the child. “Elizabeth. I think she’s an Elizabeth.” She smiles and Richard starts to grin. 

“Hello Bess!” He whispers, picks her up and gently starts to rub her back. 

“I wish we could go back to Fotheringhay soon, Richard.” Cecily mumbles, drawing circles on a pillow that has left its place behind her back. “I have to admit, I quite like it in France.” He murmurs, somehow he is still not able to believe these words have just slipped from his lips. 

Cecily smiles, “You are quite fond of the Normandy, aren’t you? It’s beautiful, indeed.” 

“I am afraid the court won’t like it.” He sighs, Elizabeth still sleeping in his arms. He still feels deeply hurt by the king’s behaviour. He’s denied him the men he needed and has given them to Beaufort, now the first Duke of Somerset. Somerset’s actions have been in vain and Richard feels even more humiliated. He knows Somerset is dying and somehow he feels not sorry about it. Richard’s nothing but the governor of the Normandy now…his former power almost vanished. He spends his days caring merely about administrative matters. He knows they will go home soon. 

Richard is right. A little more than a year later, they return home. A few days before, Cecily has found out that she is with child again and it relieves him greatly that this child will be born in England. The decision about him not being reappointed still hurts him, especially since Edmund Beaufort, the new Duke of Somerset, has taken over his position. 

Cecily has given her best to console him, and it makes him smile. He knows he will easily be able to swallow down his pride when he holds their child in his arms. 

“How are you?” He reins his horse close to the litter which carries Cecily and the children. “I am well. We are well.” She smiles, and Edmund’s little head pops up. He shoots a huffy look at his father because he’s forbidden him to ride with him. Richard can’t help but laugh. “When you are a little older, Edmund.” He shouts as he rides away again. 

Edmund breathes out, annoyed. “Listen to your Papa, Edmund. Soon you’ll be riding next to him.” Cecily smiles and ruffles his hair. “I don’t think so!” Edward chirps and Cecily has to do her best to keep them from fighting. Annie, who is as calm as always, gets hold of Edward’s ear and pulls at it until he starts howling and begs her to stop. 

Cecily laughs. Oh, her little Annie will be a wonderful mother someday. “Mama, she does this every time.” Edward wails and buries his head in Cecily’s gown. “I just do what is necessary.” Annie murmurs and Cecily nods. Edward’s head pops up again and he sticks out his tongue to Annie who gasps and narrows her eyes. Cecily can barely keep herself from laughing. Poor Edward has probably no idea what he’s gotten himself into


	11. Ireland

Richard laughs as the midwife walks down the stairs, sighing. “A fierce child it is, much like its mother.” She says, raising an eyebrow. Richard takes two steps at a time to be with her and the child. 

He has to admit, he loves the sight of Cecily holding a newborn. She looks exhausted. This labour has taken longer than the ones Richard can remember, but he’s glad this child seems to be determined to live…and scream. “Shh.” Cecily murmurs and the screams turn into sobs.

“Hello.” Richard whispers and gently kisses Cecily’s forehead. He looks at the little red face and the tiny clenched fists and smiles. “The midwife said he’s a fierce one. Much like you.” Cecily rolls her eyes; of course, the midwife would say this. “I know better why he is fierce.” Richard grins as he slips into her bed, to hold her and the child.

Both still remember the night they’ve made this child. The argument and the make up are still very vivid in their memories. 

_“Do you still remember me? I am your wife and I am going to leave for England.” She spits out, terribly angry. “Of course, I do. And no, you are definitely not going to leave for England, Cecily!” He snarls, grabbing her arm to stop her from packing. “You knew when you married me that I would not be the obedient wife who sits in her chamber, stitching and waiting for you!”_

_“I said you are not going to leave! You’ve always known that I would lead a life of duties.” “Duties! Duties! That’s all I’ve heard from you the past months, and I am so tired of it. I think I have to commission a painting of you to remember how you look like!”_

_She struggles herself free, to let her mirror and comb fall into the coffer. On her way back to fetch her other things, Richard pulls her to him, and pins her against the wall. “You know how much I hate to repeat myself.” He growls, giving her no chance to reply as he closes her mouth with his lips. Cecily bites into his lip, she’s angry and if he thinks he can have his way now, he is wrong._

_She tries to push him away, but years of fighting and military training have made Richard much stronger, and he’s not willing to let her go. He presses his hips against hers and Cecily can feel how much he wants her now. She lets her fingers run down his neck until they reach his shoulder where they dig deep into his flesh._

_He groans as he lets go of her, only for a second so he can shed his doublet and his shirt. He throws both of them carelessly into a corner, and pins Cecily against the wall again. Richard nibbles at her earlobe, after all this time he knows Cecily’s weakest spots, he knows where she wants to be touched, where she needs to be touched._

_She groans, and somehow she is glad she’s wearing a simple dress, which easily pools at her feet. Richard kicks it away, with the same carelessness that he has shown towards his own clothing. One of his hands sneaks under her shift to cup her breast and rub her nipple with the pad of his thumb. His other hand starts to fumble at the lacing of his breeches._ Hell! _He thinks as they won’t do exactly as he wants them to._

_Finally, he’s gotten rid of them too. He’s now way too impatient to wait until Cecily feels the need to get out of her shift. He raises her up, pulling her shift over her hips before he enters her with one swift thrust. Cecily gasps, it takes her only a few seconds until she has found his rhythm, a rhythm that matches his fast thrusts. She can feel his anger, and she wants him to feel hers._

_Her short nails scratch his back, she is sure she’s left more than one scratch mark. She wraps her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into her, making him moan. He takes her as hard and fast as he can…Cecily has to admit she likes it. “Richard…” She cries out at one especially hard thrust. Her arms wrap around him and he buries his head in the crook of her neck as her inner muscles tighten around him. He groans hoarsely as he spills inside her._

_It seems to take an eternity until both have managed to even their breath. Cecily’s legs feel wobbly and she’s sure she will not be able to stand as Richard lets her slide down the wall. She smiles as he lifts her up and carries her over to the bed. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles as he slides next to her. “What?” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper…did I hurt you?”_

_Cecily laughs an easy laughter and cups his cheek with her hand. “No, you didn’t…I quite enjoyed it. But I’m sure I’ve hurt you.” Her fingers wander over his back; he flinches as she touches one of the marks she’s left. “I know better than to make you angry.” He laughs before his face is serious again. “Don’t leave…I need you…I need you here. You and the children are the reason I’ve not gone insane yet.”_

_Cecily snuggles close to him. “If you promise to do that more often!”_

Richard’s laughter pulls her out of her thoughts. Her cheeks are burning and she is sure she’s blushed. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” He grins as he bends down to kiss her cheek. “We’ve made a fierce child that night, indeed.” She murmurs, looking at the little face, still red and still looking like he’s about to cry every second. “What shall we name him?” Cecily asks to turn the conversation into a different direction.

“I thought about George. It’s a good and proper Neville name.” He smiles and gently cups the little head. “Hello George. You little troublemaker.” Cecily gently nudges George’s little nose, and for the first time, he opens his eyes and does not look like someone is about to kill him.

“Papa, Papa!” He hears the children scream as he steps into the courtyard and he cannot help it but smile at the little bunch of rascals they have. Sometimes it still hurts him to know that William and John have left this earth too soon to become a part of the little bunch. “They say Mama’s had the baby, Papa. What is it?” Edmund, now six, pulls at his father’s breeches to get his attention. 

“It’s a boy.” Annie, Bess, Edmund, and Edward flinch at their father’s words. The last two times they’ve heard the words “it’s a boy” they didn’t have their new brother for long. “He’s very healthy and strong.” Richard adds and the little faces before him brighten up immediately. Richard lifts up Meg, who, so far, is the only child to resemble him. Sometimes Richard can’t help but think Cecily favours Meg because she looks so much like him, which Cecily denies, of course. 

“Do you want to meet the new baby?” He smiles and Meg’s eyes widen. “Yes!” She nods, and he looks at his other children, who are more than eager to welcome their newest brother.


	12. Fotheringhay

The Duke of York and his family return to England in 1450. Richard cannot help but think how indifferent he has become to the country and to the people…or rather said, to the people at court. Cecily gives birth to a short lived boy, named Thomas, in the early weeks of the following year. She has always recovered rather quickly from her past pregnancies. This time it seems to be different. Richard is sure there won’t be more children, but he’s fine with it. 

“Three boys and three girls. I think we have a rather fine number of children.” He smiles and kisses her forehead. He enjoys staying at Fotheringhay, watching his children grow. Cecily’s nephew Dick becomes a father for the first time in September. A little girl named Isabel. For the first time Richard finds himself wondering about finding suitable spouses for his children. It’s a nice worry; compared to the political situation in England…it strains his nerves to think of it. 

“Isabel is a gorgeous little girl.” Cecily smiles as she returns from her visit to Warwick Castle. “Unfortunately,” she sighs as Richard takes her coat, “Dick is not like you. He is rather disappointed that it’s a girl. Nan is completely distressed because of it.” 

“See, what a wonderful husband you have, my lady.” He smiles and bows before her. Cecily can’t help but laugh and wrap her arms around him. “Oh, I am very much aware of that. How are the children?” 

“They are fine, though Mama was missed very much.” “Then I should go to them. I have missed them very much as well.” She smiles; it’s one of her mischievous smiles. She expects Richard to tell her that he wants her to stay with him now. And she’s right. 

“Ah, but I think I missed you even more, and I think the children are sleeping now anyway…at least they are supposed to.” He murmurs the last part, his qualities of convincing his children it’s bedtime aren’t the best, actually.

Cecily laughs and wraps her arms around him again, pressing a kiss on his lips. “After all these years…” “I still can’t get enough of my wonderful wife.” Richard murmurs and kisses her. “Of course I stay.” 

“You have to keep both eyes open, Ned.” Richard murmurs as he tries to teach Edward and Edmund how to shoot a bow. Neither of them is really good at it, but he keeps pretending they are so they don’t lose their interest in it. Cecily smiles, as George runs past her and she can barely catch him. “Hello, my little rascal.” She grins and George starts to giggle. 

Richard looks up, a sigh leaving his lips. “Keep on going, boys.” He ruffles Edward and Edmund’s hair before he walks over to Cecily and George. They are going to have that argument again. “You shouldn’t be carrying him.” Richard raises his eyebrows in disapproval. “I am pregnant, not sick.” 

“I know, but…” “Richard!” She sighs as he takes George out of her arms. She will be in confinement soon, and Richard wants her to be extremely cautious about every move that she makes. “We have been married for twenty three years, I have given birth to almost a dozen babies during that time and you still think I am not able to carry my other children during a pregnancy.” 

“You know that George is a little struggler.” He nods at George who is, indeed, trying to struggle himself free. “I was totally fine when you held Meg during…” Cecily stops him with her laughter, pulling him close and pressing a kiss on his lips. She doesn’t actually mind that he’s worried about her. Cecily feels like they are on the run for most of the time. They’ve just returned from Ludlow and she is not able to tell how glad she is about it. 

Richard still tries to be recognised as Henry’s heir, since his wife Marguerite has still not given birth to a child, after almost seven years of marriage. “If she’s ever going to have a child, it won’t be Henry’s anyway.” She’s heard the courtiers rumour at their last visit in London. Cecily cannot actually say that she likes the Queen, and the Queen probably doesn’t like her, but she’s far from minding. The only thing she cares about is her family, and the future, even though the prospect of it seems to scare her. 

Richard pauses in front of the birthing chamber. He hears Cecily argue with the midwife and has to bite his tongue in order to stop himself from laughing. “She’s a good mistress, she’s a good mistress.” The midwife repeats as she slams the door behind her shut. “A terrible mistress she is!” She snarls into Richard’s direction. “She won’t listen to me. The babe’s been born barely two hours ago and she already insists on walking through the chamber with him. If she dies, it will not be my fault. Not my fault, Your Grace!” 

“It was an easy birth then?” Richard dares to ask and the midwife looks up. “Oh, yes. Very easy. She’s done it as if it was something casually. He’s a small fella, but no need to worry. He’ll grow out of it.” The midwife bows and continues to mumble as she walks away. 

“I hear you are a terrible mistress who won’t listen to the things an experienced midwife says?” He grins as he steps into the chamber. Cecily turns around. She’s wearing a clean shift and holds a little bundle in her arms. “Pah! I can walk around as much as I want to. I have given birth to twelve children now, I know what I can do…besides, it seems to calm him.”

She looks at the little bundle and her eyes soften. She already knows his name. He just has to get this name. Richard chuckles and steps closer. A shock of dark hair greets him and little, dark green eyes look at him curiously. “So, I don’t even have to hope about being the one to name him?” He grins as he takes the bundle out of her hands. Cecily never has their children swaddled after birth, she believes it’s nonsense. 

“No, I’m sorry, but I’ve already chosen a name.” She cups the little head with her hand, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb. “He’s a Richard. He just has to be. Just look at him.” A little gurgle is the answer and Richard laughs. “Seems I am outnumbered. I actually thought about naming him after your father.” 

“Oh, no. He’s not a Ralph. We need a boy who’s named after his father…and I’m afraid he will be my last one.” Cecily sighs and slips into her bed. The thought of not being able to bear children anymore bothers her…probably even more than she wants to admit. Richard joins her and pulls her close, using his free arm. “Do you really think I would mind?” He murmurs and gently kisses her neck. “I don’t mind at all.” He whispers and Cecily snuggles close to him and her little Richard.

“We will call him Dickon, to avoid the confusion.” She yawns. 

“So, that’s our new brother.” Edward raises an eyebrow as he looks at the little baby in the cradle. “He looks like Papa.” Bess smiles and Edmund nods in agreement. George pulls at Edmund’s breeches. “I want to see him too!” Edmund lifts his little brother up, so he can see the newest addition to their family. “Ugh.” George shakes his little head. “Shut up, George! He’s prettier than you are!” Bess hisses. She has decided that the little one will be her favourite brother. 

Cecily and Richard watch from a distance, both trying to hold back the laughter.


	13. Treasured Moments

Richard grins as his youngest son crawls over the bed. “Dickon, come here.” He coos, making the little boy show his toothless smile. Cecily has been right. Dickon is just like his Papa. A quiet little boy with black curls and green, thoughtful eyes. Richard is terribly proud that at least one boy takes after him. 

He likes to have Dickon with them. He’s rather calm, unlike the other children, and he’s small, which is why Richard thinks he has to show special care towards him. Cecily laughs as Richard’s strong arms wrap around the little boy, who starts to babble excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear his first word...” Richard says, nudging Dickon’s nose with his. 

“The nurse said he’s babbling a lot lately. I think we’ll hear his first word soon.” Cecily snuggles against Richard and Dickon, laughing softly as Richard starts to let Dickon bounce up and down on his knees. The sound of Dickon’s laughter fills their chamber, and is soon joined by his parents’ laughter. 

Richard stops immediately as Dickon seems to utter his first word, which sounds a lot like “Papa.” 

“Did you hear that? He just said Papa!” Richard’s smile almost spreads from one ear to the other. He pulls Dickon into his arms again, pressing little kisses on his cheek. 

Cecily pouts a bit. “Are you really sure he said Papa?” Richard looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “Of course he did. Ah, I see, you are jealous.” He grins and sticks out his tongue like he’s a little boy. 

“I am not jealous, Richard. Definitely not.” “Oh, yes, you are.” Richard chirps, rocking Dickon back and forth. “He’s the first one to say ‘Papa’ first.” He murmurs. Dickon is yawning, his little hands rubbing over his eyes. 

Cecily and Richard smile, both can remember the first word of every child they have. Cecily giggles as she thinks of Edmund, whose first word has been ‘dog’. “You just thought of Edmund’s first word, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes, do you still remember how he looked at Edward and just said ‘dog’? Poor Edward, he was really startled.” Cecily laughs softly. Richard pulls her close and kisses her forehead, while Dickon is drifting into a peaceful sleep, snuggled against his father’s chest. 

“We should let him sleep here tonight.” Richard whispers and Cecily nods, carefully stroking Dickon’s back. She doesn’t want to wake her little boy. She’s always enjoyed having their children sleeping next to her. It’s her comfort when Richard is away…though the grown number of children has made it rather uncomfortable by now.

Richard spends a lot of time in the nursery, watching his children and playing with them. He wonders whether he’ll be able to provide a stable and safe future for them. The Queen has given birth to a son. He’s seen the boy, and he knows about Henry’s current state. The boy cannot be Henry’s. 

“He’s got Somerset’s eyes.” He still hears what Cecily has murmured into his ears. _A bastard on the throne_. No. The last bastard had to fight a battle to take the throne, and if this one wanted the throne, he would have to fight as well. 

The sound of Marguerite’s voice, with her heavy French accent, still echoes in his ears. _“It is a shame, dear York. It is a shame your daughter died so soon after birth. She could have been a bride for my son. She could have been queen.”_ He clenches his fist at the thought how she’s mocked him and Cecily, making fun of the death of their last child. Their daughter Joan has lived only for a few hours, and it’s been the first time after Henry’s birth that he’s been afraid of losing Cecily. 

Richard’s pulled back into reality by George, trying to climb his father’s back. “Papa, Papa! I can see a lot more from here…and I could see a lot more if you’d stand up!” George triumphantly declares. Sometimes Richard thinks George is a little left behind, and he feels sorry for his son. 

“That’s right George.” He smiles and reaches up to place George safely on his shoulders. 

“Papa?”

“Yes, George?” 

“Do you and Mama still like me? I don’t think you do since Dickon is here.”

“Of course we do, George! We still love you very much. Dickon’s been here for more than a year, and we have cared about you the whole time, George.” Richard says softly, and reaches up again, to place George back on the floor and be able to look into his eyes. “We care a lot about you.”

“But you are caring a lot more about him, than you do about me.” He pouts, making Richard sigh. 

“Dickon is very small, you see.” Richard points at Dickon who’s completely taken by the stuffed dog one of the nurses has given him. “So, Mama and I are worried about him. We don’t have to be worried about you, because you’re strong.”

“And I’m a big boy!” George’s face brightens up immediately. 

“Exactly, you are a big boy. Do you know what big boys do, George?” George shakes his head, his eyes wide in anticipation of his father’s announcement. 

“They care for their little brothers, and they don’t play pranks.” Richard winks and ruffles George’s hair gently. 

“But…but…” George is trying to speak really fast because he wants to get rid of all the thoughts in his head. “But, since Dickon is here, Meg doesn’t care about me anymore. All she does is telling everyone how cute Dickon is.” 

“So you want her to tell everyone how cute you are?” Richard laughs and George blushes, shaking his head. 

“No, I just want to play with her again.” 

“I’m sure you will.” Richard smiles, and the smile gets even wider as he sees Dickon crawling into their direction, Richard is almost sure he knows what is youngest is about to do. As soon as Dickon’s reached them, he starts pulling at George’s shirt, offering him the stuffed dog. 

“Thank you, Dickon.” George mumbles. “But you can keep it; I am a big boy now.” 

Richard cannot help but laugh as he watches George walking away and Dickon’s gaze following him, looking completely startled. “Papa?” Dickon asks, using his favourite word. Richard shrugs, still laughing. “He’s a big boy now, Dickon.” 

“You are a wonderful father.” Cecily whispers into his ears, a second after he’s shed his doublet. Richard turns around, an eyebrow raised in astonishment. 

“I was eavesdropping today.”

“So?”

“Yes, I think you did wonderfully with George.” Cecily wraps his arms around him, her lips curling into a most seductive smile. 

“You are tempting me, woman.” Richard growls as he pulls her closer, kissing her neck.

“Oh, that was exactly what I’ve planned.”


	14. Past and Future Part I

Dickon sits on the stairs, trying hard not to cry. His knees hurt, and George’s mocking words still burn inside him. George always makes fun of him. He makes fun of him claiming he’s a changeling, because, except for Meg, his other siblings don’t look like he does. After six years, he should be used to it, but he isn’t. 

“Oh, there you are.” He hears his mother’s voice, and quickly presses his face against his knees, which hurts even more. Cecily sits down next to him, trying to coax him into looking at her. She looks at the torn breeches and she knows exactly what has happened. _George_. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Cecily coos. Dickon shakes his head. 

“I’ve seen George pushing you. I’m sure your knees hurt pretty badly, don’t they?” He shakes his head again. 

“What did Papa tell you about lying?” 

“I shall not do it.” He raises his head and sniffs. Cecily can finally see the full outcome of George’s behaviour. Dickon’s knees are bleeding and the dirt still sticks to them…her heart stops for a second. She has to clean the wounds before anything bad happens, though she knows it will be hard to convince Dickon to let her do it. 

“It’s okay to cry, love. It’s okay to cry when you feel in pain.” Cecily pulls him close and he buries his head in her gown. “I cry sometimes too.” 

Dickon’s head pops up and he looks at her. “I don’t like it that you cry, Mama.” “Sometimes crying helps, Dickon.” 

Cecily gently wipes away the tears on his face. “And now I want to get your knees clean. I won’t argue about this with you.” She gets up and holds her arms out. Dickon gladly snuggles against her, letting his head rest against her shoulder. 

Cecily loves holding him. She loves to feel his little body close to hers, especially now since his father is, again, away on a campaign. He looks so much like his father; they have the same black, curly hair, though Richard’s is slowly greying, and the same intense green eyes. Cecily would never admit it, but secretly, he’s her favourite. She loves all her children equally, but Dickon doesn’t just resemble his father physically, he also has the same personality, unlike Meg, who has her father’s looks, but her mother’s temper. 

Dickon lets his little legs dangle after Cecily has placed him in a chair. “Get your breeches off.” “Mama!” He blushes immediately and Cecily turns around, an astonished look on her face. She laughs as she sees the embarrassed look on his face. “You need new ones anyway. Shall I call for Edmund to help you?” She kneels in front of Dickon who nods quickly. 

Edmund is Dickon’s favourite brother, and Edmund adores Dickon. Edmund is fifteen now, and though she knows boys this age are not easy to handle, he is still the most easy going child she’s ever given birth to. “Hey, little one.” Edmund smiles as he steps into the room. “He needs his wounds to be cleaned, and he won’t let me do it.” “I will care for him, Mama.” Edmund nods and holds out his hand. Dickon jumps down from the chair, wincing as he feels the pain in his knees stronger than ever. 

George pouts as his mother chides him. “But…” “No, George. I don’t want to hear it. Just never do it again. It’s not fair.” George is still a troublemaker. He very much enjoys it to play pranks and is the reason why four nurses have left the York household. Cecily sighs, and lets her hand run over his cheek. “Never, ever do that again. Papa will be furious when he hears about this.” 

George has the tendency to take every sign of affection from his mother as a sign of her favouring him. “Go.” She nods and he runs away, a grin on his face. 

Two days later Richard returns. “Papa!” Dickon wants to run to him immediately, but his knees still hurt terribly and so he rather stumbles over to his father, who snatches him off the ground. “Hello, my boy.” He smiles and presses a kiss on Dickon’s forehead. 

“What happened to your knees?” 

“Nothing.” Dickon tries to smile as innocently as possible. 

“What did I tell you about lying, Richard?” Dickon swallows; his father never calls him Richard. 

“I shall not do it.” 

“Exactly. So, what happened?” 

“George.” He mumbles and Richard sighs…of course. 

“I’ll talk to him later, I promise. Where are your siblings…and where is Mama?” “They are inside. Dick and his family will come over to visit, and Mama wants everything to be perfect. She says she has to keep an eye on the servants.” Richard chuckles. 

“Of course, then, let us join them, shall we?” He lifts Dickon on his shoulders, careful not to touch his knees. 

“Richard!” Cecily laughs as she sees him and Dickon walking in. “I thought you’d not come until next week.” She pulls him close to press a kiss on his lips, and he laughs. “Yes, I thought about coming home for a few days. I missed you and our little rascals.” He makes a motion that makes Dickon bounce up and down on his shoulders. The little boy giggles in sheer excitement. 

“I hear Dick is coming?” “Yes, and he will bring Nan and the girls along.”

“Hello, Dick.” Richard smiles and pats the shoulder of the young man. He is a Neville through and through. If Richard would compare him to one of his children, it would be George, though his temper is much more controlled. His wife, Anne Beauchamp has always been delicate, but very much loved by her husband. 

Their daughters Isabel and Anne couldn’t be more different. Isabel takes after her mother, having inherited her aristocratic behaviour and looks, while her little sister Anne takes after her father, having blonde hair and blue eyes. 

“How is your father, my brother?” Cecily asks as she leads them into the great hall. Their children are already waiting for the visitors, eager to meet them. They’re all standing in a row, and Cecily cannot help but think how proud she is of each of them. Little Anne has immediately found a liking in Dickon, and as soon as they’ve settled, and Dick has placed his little daughter on the ground, she crawls into Dickon’s direction. 

The little boy hides behind his father’s legs as fast as he can. It’s the first time he has to interact with a toddler, and it confuses him. Dickon blushes as he notices how everyone laughs at him. Anne sits on the floor, pouting because of the rejection. “Your boy already knows what it’s about, Richard.” Dick chuckles, which makes Nan and Cecily shoot an annoyed look at him. 

“Don’t worry Dickon, it’s only your cousin Anne.” Richard whispers and gently pushes Dickon into Anne’s direction, making the little girl beam with delight. “But she’s so small…I have no idea what to do with her.” Dickon whispers into his father’s ear. “Just play with her, show her your little castle.” Richard smiles. 

Finally, Dickon takes the courage to step forward.


	15. Past and Future Part II

“It’s good to have you lying next to me again.” Cecily smiles as Richard slips into her bed. “I’ve missed you.” She snuggles close to him and he immediately wraps his arms around her. Her thoughts are still occupied by the earlier events, by Dickon and Anne. Dickon has warmed up pretty fast to her, and the little girl has managed to coax him out of his shell. 

“What are you thinking about?” Richard murmurs and starts to play with a strand of Cecily’s hair. “Oh, I thought about Dickon and Anne. I think they would be a lovely couple, wouldn’t they?” 

Richard chuckles a bit. “Dickon is only six…and Anne is only two. Do you already plan to play the matchmaker?” Cecily rolls her eyes. “No, I mean…don’t they remind you of us? When we were younger?” “Well, Anne is as fierce and determined as you are, and Dickon is a lot like his old father.” He smiles at the thought of his youngest son. 

“Yes, they would be a lovely couple. I’m going to ask Dick for a betrothal when they are a bit older…for both of the boys. I think I’ve never seen George so calm and gentle. Isabel has wrapped him completely around her finger.” He pauses for a second.

“It sounds strange, but I think I really want Dickon and Anne to marry.” He laughs, pulling Cecily a bit closer. 

“I’m a bit worried…if Dick is just like my brother, which means he’s terribly ambitious… the youngest son of a Duke might not be enough for him.” Cecily sighs. 

“Maybe he won’t be the youngest son of a Duke then.” Richard murmurs and Cecily pushes herself up to look into his eyes. She takes a deep breath. 

“So you’ve decided to take the throne.” “Yes.” He nods. Cecily has to think for a second before she takes his hand and gently kisses it. “I will always be on your side. No matter what you choose to do.” 

Richard doesn’t care that Dick and Nan are sleeping in a chamber down the hall. He doesn’t care about anything as he rolls around, burying Cecily’s body under his. “I love you.” He breathes against her throat, continuing his way down her body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edward, Edmund, George, and Dickon are lying on the grass, watching the clouds wander. Each of them has something different to do, but they’ve managed to escape from that. Edward and Edmund know about their father’s plans to take the throne. George and Dickon are still unaware of everything, and both, Ned and Edmund can’t help but envy them. 

“Ed?” Dickon whispers and pulls at his brother’s shirt. Edmund turns his head. “Hmm?” “Something is going on.” 

Edmund sighs and turns his head back, closing his eyes. He’s almost sixteen, a grown up man, some would say. Still, he has absolutely no idea how to explain what is going on to a seven-year-old. “Indeed.” He nods, without opening his eyes. “Something is going on.” 

Ned rises up. “There are a lot of things going on, Dickon. Many things will change. It is necessary that father will be king. This country is suffering under Mad Harry and this French harlot of a wife he has…and her son shall never be King. No one wants to be ruled by a bastard.” He snarls. 

“Ned!” Edmund hisses and turns to his little brother again, unlike George, Dickon seems to be worried. Sometimes Edmund wishes Dickon would be more like George, but he isn’t. He is too clever for his age, and he realises quickly what’s going on. 

“Papa has a strong claim to the throne, they’ve said.” Dickon murmurs, he is not as clueless as Edward and Edmund might like to think. 

“So we’ll be princes then?” George’s head pops up and Ned groans. “Yes, and I’m sure Isabel will be delighted to be married to a prince.” If George would have anything close to him that he could throw at Edward, he would totally do it. “I am not as stupid as you think.” George grumbles. 

Richard stands at the window, watching his boys lying in the grass. He doesn’t mind that they’ve escaped their lessons and duties. God knows how long they will be able to live a life without sorrows. He prays that everything will be well in the future. He prays he will be able to provide a stable future for his children. 

He feels Cecily’s arms wrap around him from behind. “I hope they know they’re in trouble.”

“Let them…who knows how often they’ll be able to do this. They’ve been through so much…and they’ve never given up.” 

He thinks about the children he and Cecily have lost. He feels blessed that, out of thirteen children Cecily has given birth to, seven are still alive. There could be fewer children, he keeps telling himself, though every loss of every child has cut deep into his heart. Both Henrys, William, John, Thomas, Joan…and the children Cecily lost early in their marriage. 

Sometimes he is glad that they don’t have to face the hardships of this world. Of their world. 

“We’re not getting any younger, aren’t we?” “What I wouldn’t give to be able to read your thoughts.” Cecily places a kiss on his neck. 

“I will have to flee to Ireland, Cecily. My men have sent word that the parliament is planning to have me charged for…I don’t remember what it is this time, probably that I don't know my place…”

“You know your place, and it’s your rightful place.” Cecily lets go of Richard and closes her eyes, trying to control her anger. “They seem to forget that Harry’s grandfather stole the throne from King Richard. They seem to forget, that your claim to the throne is strong. Stronger than the one of this French bastard.” 

Ever since Queen Marguerite has given birth to a son, Cecily refers to him as “French bastard” everybody in the whole realm knows that he is not Henry’s son. 

“Even though he looks a lot like Somerset, Henry has still recognised him as his son, Cecily.” Richard sighs, turning around, away from the window and to Cecily. 

“I will do everything to keep my family safe…and if it means I must take this step, then I have to take it. And I will take it.” 

He pulls Cecily close, and she buries her head in his shirt, trying not to let her tears show how scared she actually is.


	16. The Last Goodbye

George and Dickon sneak down the stairs. It’s the middle of the night, and apparently, something big seems to be going on in the great hall. Their father is wearing his armour, and the squires are helping Edward and Edmund to get into theirs. George’s face, which usually looks rather relaxed, looks worried, and this is worrying Dickon even more. George can stop Dickon from running to their mother, who is watching the scene from a distance, just in time. 

“Are you mad? They will scold us for not being asleep right now!” George hisses…a little too loud. Richard looks up, and even though both boys try to duck out of sight, their father sees them. He nods to Cecily, who follows his gaze. She can see George’s dark blonde hair, and Dickon’s dark curls. “Come here boys.” Richard calls. 

Reluctantly, George and Dickon make their way through all the haste and all the people that are running around. Cecily lowers herself. Dickon thinks that she’s never looked so beautiful. Her hair is falling in loose waves down her shoulders, and her eyes seem to be so sad, yet so full of hope. “You should be in bed, shouldn’t you?” She whispers and gently strokes their cheeks. 

“We heard the noise.” George says. Cecily expects him to babble about it, but he doesn’t. Dickon says nothing as he turns around and runs into Richard’s direction. “You promised to show me how to shoot with a bow!” He howls and throws his little fists against his father’s legs. He’s never actually seen his father preparing for a battle. It scares him terribly.

“Hey, hey…” Richard murmurs and picks him up. Dickon is sobbing and his fingers grab Richard’s hair, never wanting to let him go. “Who says I won’t? I promise you, I will teach you how to shoot with a bow.” Richard murmurs, gently stroking Dickon’s back. 

George buries his face in Cecily’s robe. He knows what Dickon is feeling. He knows it too well. 

“I promise I’ll come back, Dickon. We’ll shoot bows together, and you’ll get your first proper horse.” Richard whispers and smiles, as Dickon’s head pops up again. He wipes away the tears on the little face and puts him back down. Edmund turns to his little brother, an assuring smile on his face.

“When we’re back, I’m going to show you who the best archer of the family is.” 

Richard pulls Cecily close to kiss her. “Take care of yourself, and of the children. I couldn’t bear it to know you’re in danger…but I know I don’t have to be worried.” Cecily swallows hard; it feels like this is their last goodbye.

“Why does it feel like I’m never going to see you again?” 

Richard laughs. “Oh, you will see me again. And we will celebrate our reunion, I promise.” He winks as he straddles his horse. 

“Goodbye, my love. I’ll be with you again…soon.” 

Neither Richard, nor Edmund is able to keep the promise. The Battle of Wakefield is Richard’s last. The experienced warrior has only one thought in his head as he feels his death approaching. _Cissy. Annie. Ned. Ed. Bess. Meg. George. Dickon._

Cecily’s heart seems to fail her as the messenger brings her the message. _The Duke of York has been slain…and his second son, the Earl of Rutland has been murdered._

Cecily falls on her knees. She feels the nausea approaching, and then she feels empty. There is nothing. The pain seems to be overwhelming. _Richard. Edmund._ She is not able to believe that she is never going to see their faces again. She’s never going to feel Richard’s lips on hers again. The man she’s known all her life is gone. Her dream of growing old with him, watching their grandchildren run around…is dead…just like he is. 

She will never love again. Her heart has turned into stone. Her soul is burnt into ashes. “Oh, Richard.” She sobs. She pulls herself together, she has no idea how, but she does. She has to ensure George and Dickon’s safety.

It’s the middle of the night, but Ludlow seems to burn as she wakes and grabs Dickon and George. 

She lowers herself on her knees again, having gathered all her children around her. She will keep the girls with her, praying they will be safe with her. 

“Papa…” She has to breathe deeply. “Papa…Papa is not with us, anymore.” 

“He’s fighting, of course he’s not with us, he’s away.” George replies in a desperate attempt to deny the truth.

“Papa is dead.” Dickon howls and throws himself into Cecily’s arms. Meg pulls George close. She’s never seen her little brother so pale. 

“It’s not only Papa.” Cecily whispers, closing her eyes. “Edmund…” She feels Dickon’s body shaking even more. She takes a deep breath. The tears of her children feel like little drops of fire burning her skin. 

“I will send you to Burgundy. I want you to be safe.” Dickon shakes his head, he wants to protest, and for the first time, Cecily slaps him…she regrets it just a second after she’s done it. “I’m sorry.” She murmurs, pressing Dickon close to her. “I just want you to be safe.” 

She sends them both to Burgundy, making sure that at least two of her remaining sons will survive this bloody war. She pays the Captain and kisses her sons goodbye. Both look so scared and for a second Cecily doesn’t want to part from them. She hands a letter over to George, a letter for the Duke of Burgundy, written by Richard before he’s left. The letter Richard’s written for her is still hidden in her gown, close to her heart. 

She waves her boys goodbye. George is holding Dickon who still cannot stand on his own feet. “I’m so proud of you…of both of you…” Cecily whispers as she turns around…finally allowing herself to cry. 

Edward stumbles through the door of his mother’s chamber. “Mama!” He falls on his knees before her. She has aged considerably since he’s last seen her. “Edward.” Cecily falls on the ground, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh God! Thank God, you are still alive. I thought I’d lost you as well.” 

Edward’s body starts to shake. “They have…they have…Papa’s head…and Edmund’s…on a pole…put a paper crown…mocking him…why…Edmund.” Cecily closes her eyes. “I have to see them.” She murmurs, and Edward jumps on his feet immediately. 

“No!” His breath is ragged as he looks at his mother. “No, please, Mama. Don’t. It’s dangerous…and…and I want you to remember them the way they were…not what they’ve made of them.” He clenches his fist. 

“Mad Harry and the French harlot will pay! They will pay for what they’ve done!” He growls. “I promise you, Mama. I will not rest until they’ve paid for what they’ve done!” 

“Don’t, Ned.” Edward looks at her in surprise. She’s rarely called him Ned. “Don’t promise me anything.” Cecily shakes her head. No, she thinks she will never be able to believe a given promise again. Never.


	17. Letters of Loneliness

“I’m going to write a letter to Mama.” Dickon decides. “Do you want to write a letter as well?” George shrugs. No, he doesn’t actually want to write anything. Burgundy’s court fascinates him, and he is barely interested in anything else. “Tell Mama I miss her.” He murmurs absentmindedly, already looking for a new adventure. Richard shrugs and takes the quill. All he wants to do is making his Mama happy. 

He’s practised a lot to make his handwriting look good. He knows his Mama likes beautiful things. He still remembers the things his Papa’s told him about the jewellery his Mama’s received every time she’s given birth to a baby. “ _Don’t forget that, Dickon. Remember to give something beautiful to your wife after she’s given you a child.”_

He swallows hard, that’s what Papa’s said to him after Meg has admired Mama’s beautiful blue necklace. He still misses his Papa. He misses his voice, his smile, and the way he used to cuddle with him. He would give anything to be snuggled against his father once more. He wipes away the tears with his sleeve; Duke Philip has told him to be happy, because he still has his Mama.

Cecily opens the letter her youngest son has written to her. His fine and beautiful handwriting surprises her and it reminds her of Richard’s handwriting, and she has to think about the letter he’s written to her before he’s left. She still hasn’t opened it…she doubts she’ll ever will. 

_Dearest Mama,_

_I hope you and our siblings are well._  
_Burgundy is nice, although not as nice as Fotheringhay and Ludlow. Duke Philip is a good man, and the Duchess Isabella is very nice, she hugs us very often. The Duke’s son Charles thinks himself to be a hero; he says he will be as famous as Saint George one day. I don’t think so, Mama._  
_Burgundy is very different. They are all very rich here, I think._  
_I have never seen so many colours at one place. The churches are beautiful, you would like them very much, Mama. You would also like the Duke’s huge collection of portraits. I wish one of these painters would have painted Papa.  
I wish George and I could return to England. We miss you very much. _

_Love, Dickon._

Cecily kisses the short letter. She knows Dickon is afraid to mention his brother, even though he is probably dying to know about Edward. _I wish you could return to me soon_. She thinks. She misses her boys terribly, but they are not safe in England. She prays there will be a day when England will be safe for them again. 

The letter of her late husband seems to burn against her skin. She pulls it out and starts to turn it around in her hands. _The last letter he’s ever written to me._ She thinks. He’s always written letters to her before he’s left her for the battlefield. He’s always told her to keep them sealed, and only to open them in case he would not return. She has read them anyways…always…and now, she cannot bring herself to read this one, but she just has to read it. 

_My beloved Cecily,_

_You are worried, I know. I know it as much as I know you are scared. You’ve always been, but you’ve seen me ride into so many battles, and I’ve always come home to you._  
_The Lancastrian army seems to outnumber us, but numbers don’t win battles and our advantages are stronger. Pray for us Cecily, God would never shut his ears to your prayers, I’m sure._  
_I cannot wait to come home to you, you are my home, you’ve always been my home. From the very first day at Raby, you were my home, even though you did everything to get me out of that home._  
_I want to see your smile again. I will fight for that smile.  
_ _I love you, Cissy, and I know you will be a wonderful queen. I pray you will never have to read this letter, though I know you will. Of course, I’ve always known you’ve read every letter I’ve written. I know you too well, my love. Pray that I’ve written these words in vain and you can burn them._

_We will see each other again, I promise._

_Your loving husband,_

_Richard_

Cecily doesn’t notice how Meg enters the room. It’s the first time she allows her feelings to consume her. Her knees have given in, and she’s sure she’ll be drowning in her tears. Meg lets the plate in her hands fall and rushes to her mother. “Mama! Oh, Mama.” Meg looks at the letter and recognises her father’s handwriting. She wraps her arms around her mother, holding her. 

_God, give us our revenge. Let Edward take the throne that should be my father’s. Let my little brothers return to England. Please._ Meg thinks, fighting the tears.

Edward is true to his word. He has been fighting to take the throne, the throne that should be his father’s. With the help of his cousin Warwick, he has been able to take what is rightfully his. He returns to his mother, and as Cecily falls on her knees to bow, he pulls her up and into his arms. “You will never have to bow before me, Mama.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Edward.” Cecily whispers, gently touching his face. 

“Please send for George and Dickon, I want them to be with me when I’m crowned.” Edward smiles, and for the first time after Richard’s death, Cecily feels glad. 

“Mama! Mama!” She hears Dickon and George shout. She sinks on her knees, spreading her arms to hold them. “My boys.” She murmurs as she is finally able to wrap her arms around them again. “You’ve grown so much, both of you.” 

“Is it true, Mama? Is Edward King now?” George asks, and his eyes widen as Cecily nods. “Yes, he is.” “Do we have to bow before him?” Richard asks, and Cecily laughs. “Well, you’ll have to find out on your own.”

Edward laughs as he sees his little brothers fall on their knees. “Oh, get up you little rascals.” He grins and pulls them into his arms, spinning around. “There are better times ahead of us now.”


	18. Middleham

Edward sends Dickon to Middleham, where he is to be trained by their cousin Warwick. The boy is now the Duke of Gloucester, and he is terribly proud of that title, though he tries not to show it. Cecily’s life is calm, but she cannot stand the calmness of it. Only Meg is still with her, Annie and Bess have been married off a long time ago, though Annie has already decided to seek for a divorce, since her husband has sided with the Lancastrians. Cecily has smiled at it; her daughter definitely has inherited her temper. 

The calmness of her life is interrupted, as she is called to Middleham. _Something happened to Richard._ They no longer call him Dickon. Only Cecily, Edward, and Meg still do. Cecily pushes herself to arrive as soon as possible. She realises she couldn’t bear to lose her little Dickon. The splitting image of his father, the only one who physically reminds her of Richard. 

She is totally exhausted as she arrives, but she doesn’t care. Dick is not even there, and she has the feeling he’s hiding from her. Nan leads her to her son’s chamber, constantly babbling something, but Cecily is not keen on listening to any of her explanations, she just tells her to stay outside, and shuts the door behind her. 

Her heart seems to stop for a second. Richard looks pale and sweat is running down his forehead. Cecily sits down at the edge of the bed, careful not to wake Dickon. _I’m sorry, Cecily. He fell from his horse, but…_ Nan’s words still echo in her ears. She takes the cloth from the little table next to the bed and starts to wipe his forehead. 

Dickon stirs and opens his eyes. “Mama.” He murmurs, not sure whether this is real, or the homesickness has made him go crazy. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m here.” She whispers softly, bending down to kiss his forehead. 

“I fell from my horse, Mama. They tried to keep it away from me, but something happened to my back.” He groans as he tries to move. 

“Shhhh. Don’t move. Everything is alright, love.” Cecily bites her lower lip. _God, Dick, pray that I will have left before you return!_ She thinks. Her poor boy. 

“Sleep, Dickon.” 

“But…” 

“I will be here when you wake up.” 

Nan is kneading her hands as Cecily sits in front of her at the table. “Well…” she murmurs. 

“Well.” Cecily says louder, an eyebrow raised. “I have given my boy into your hands to train him, not to turn him into a cripple!” She snaps, even though she feels a bit sorry for Nan, after all, it’s not her fault. “I have a chamber prepared for you.” Nan murmurs, not able to look up into Cecily’s eyes. 

Cecily gets up, straightens her gown and clears her throat. “Good, then I’ll be here when Dick returns.”

Before Cecily retires, she wants to check up on Dickon again. Her boy is awake and looks much better now, though she can see he’s still exhausted. “Hello.” Cecily smiles and sits down at the edge of the bed again. “How are you?” “Better, Mama.” Dickon smiles, but Cecily notices immediately that there is something…

She turns around and sees the curtain move. “Come out, Anne.” She laughs and Dickon blushes. “You are not mad?” Anne’s little face appears before her and Cecily has to laugh even more. She spreads out her arms and lets Anne sit on her lap. “Not at all. Dickon seems to be much better…thanks to you.”

“We played chess.” Anne explains. “But I know he’s letting me win all the time.” She whispers into Cecily’s ear, making her chuckle. “Well, his father used to do the same. I always knew he would let me win.” 

“I didn’t let her win. She’s good.” Dickon mumbles and raises an eyebrow. For a second, he looks exactly like his father used to and a lump forms in Cecily’s throat. She shakes her head a little, which Dickon and Anne don’t notice, and sighs. “Well, anyway. It’s time to go to bed now. For both of you.” 

Cecily accompanies Anne to her chamber, the chamber she shares with her sister Isabel. Anne is silent as she holds Cecily’s hand. 

“Are you mad at Papa, Cecily?” 

“A bit, but don’t worry, sweetheart.” Cecily smiles and presses Anne’s hand. 

“Cecily?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell Papa that I’ve been visiting Dickon. He said I shall not do it, but I don’t like to think of Dickon alone in his chamber.”

“I promise, Anne. I won’t tell anything.” Cecily’s heart warms at the confession of the little girl. She promises herself that she will do anything to get these two married. 

“There you are…oh…” Isabel already awaits her little sister. She curtsies before Cecily, making her laugh. “You don’t have to curtsy, Isabel.” Cecily can see that there’s something troubling the little girl. She gently nudges Anne to go into the chamber, much to the dismay of the little girl. 

“Would…would…would you mind…telling me…about…about…George?” Isabel stammers and her big brown eyes almost seem black to Cecily. _She’s scared_. Cecily thinks and nods.

“Well, he’s the Duke of Clarence now. He’s well…and he spends his time at court. I’m sure he thinks of you every now and then.” 

Isabel blushes. “Good.” She murmurs. “Thank you, Cecily.” Isabel smiles and turns around, following her sister who is probably already very eager to be informed about their conversation.

Cecily leaves after two days, not after she’s had a conversation with Dick, of course.

Her first grandson is born later that year, and Cecily can’t help but miss Richard once more. He would have loved little John, and he would have been so terribly proud of his little Bess. 

The next year, 1464 brings more than one surprise. Cecily is at court as Edward walks up and down in front of her, trying to say something…but apparently, he doesn’t seem to be able to voice what’s troubling him. 

“What is it, Edward?” She smiles, placing her hand on his arm to stop him. 

“Mama, I am married.”


	19. New Tunes

Cecily blinks. “What? I thought that incident with that Butler woman was settled?” 

“It is, Mama. It is.” He murmurs and scratches the back of his head. “I’ve married Lady Elizabeth Grey.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mama, please…” Edward bites his lower lip and tries to look as innocent as possible. 

“Oh, Edward. When did you marry her?”

“May…” He murmurs.

“What?”

“We've been married since the first day of May.”

“You’ve kept your marriage secret for five months? Oh, Edward…what about Bona of Savoy?” 

“I am sorry for her, but I can’t marry her.” 

Cecily gets up, she’s just felt the need to sit down after his confession, and rubs Edward’s upper arms…just like she used to do when he was younger. “Bring her to court. I want to meet her.”

“You are not mad?”

“Edward, after all these years, I’ve learnt that there are worse things to be mad about. As long as you are happy, I am happy.”

Cecily’s first encounter with Elizabeth is not as positive as Cecily’s hoped. The young woman shows no respect for the King’s mother, and Cecily can’t help but stare at her in astonishment. “You will dance to my music, Cecily. This is my court now.” 

Elizabeth’s mother, the dowager Duchess of Bedford takes a sharp intake of breath at her daughter’s words, and as Elizabeth turns to leave, she stays for a second. She’s always gotten along well with the Duchess of York. “I am sorry, Cecily.” “Our children are our source of grief and joy, Jacquetta.” Cecily replies, shaking her head.

Dickon has to leave Middleham due to the uprising tension between Edward and Warwick. It hurts Cecily to see her youngest hurt so badly. He has found a new home, a man that has made the loss of his own father easier…and, Cecily is sure, he’s also found his first love. 

Edward’s first daughter, a girl named Elizabeth, is born two years later. Cecily smiles as she looks into the cradle. “A beautiful little girl she is. She looks so much like you.” Cecily picks up the little girl and gently pats her back as she starts to fuss. 

“Thank you, Mama. I’ve almost forgotten how wonderfully you are handling little children.” Edward smiles and his wife rolls her eyes. “I’ve had thirteen of them.” Cecily murmurs and places Elizabeth back into the cradle.

“You will learn it too, Edward.” 

George is furious as Edward marries his sister Margaret off to Burgundy. George and Meg have been close after the death of their father. They’ve always been. George feels like he has lost his only confidant. Edward has not given his consent to a marriage between George and Isabel…and not even to a marriage between Richard and Anne, but George is now very determined to marry Isabel. He doesn’t care about Edward anymore. 

The tension between Edward, Warwick, and his brother George explodes. Warwick and George side with Lancaster and little Anne is married off to Edward of Lancaster…the French bastard. Cecily is with Edward and Richard as Jacquetta breaks the news to them. 

“Your father wanted this marriage.” Cecily hisses. “Your father wanted Richard and Anne to marry.” She clenches her fist.

Edward’s face is pale and for the first time since his father has left for Wakefield, Richard feels angry. “Elizabeth said…” 

“Elizabeth!” Cecily struggles to keep herself together. “You’ve sacrificed your brother’s happiness and your father’s will for her.” 

Edward looks up, confused. He looks at his mother and then at Richard. The clenched fists of his brother tell him his mother is right. He’s always known about the love between George and Isabel, but he’s never known about Richard’s feelings. “I am sorry.” He mutters and Richard’s only reaction is to roll his eyes. He has lost his Anne, and now his brother feels sorry…

With French support, Warwick’s forces are stronger, and Edward and Richard have to flee to Burgundy. Elizabeth, who is pregnant with her fourth child, and her daughters are forced to seek sanctuary. 

Cecily stays, she can only watch as Warwick places mad Henry on the throne again. Her heart has never been heavier, and even George’s return cannot lift her spirits. George looks different. He’s lost his first child at sea, as he and Warwick had to flee to Calais. A daughter. 

“Mama…” He murmurs, one of his eyes twitching nervously. “George, do you know what you’ve done?” Cecily can barely hold back the tears. 

“I thought I would know…but I didn’t. I am sorry, Mama.” 

“You can still make it up again.”

Elizabeth gives birth to a boy. The long awaited Yorkist prince. Cecily has to visit her. For the first time, she feels sympathy for the young woman who is clearly distressed by the situation. 

Cecily takes her hand. “I am sure everything will be fine again, Elizabeth.” She smiles and Elizabeth looks up, her lips trembling. “How did you name him? May I?” Elizabeth places the little boy into Cecily’s arms. “Edward. The Anjou woman wants me to name him Henry, but he’s an Edward.” 

Cecily looks at the little bundle in her arms. “Yes, he’s an Edward.” She murmurs. “He looks like his father…like my brother Edward.” 

“Cecily…the story of Edward being illegitimate…is it true?” 

“I wonder why you didn’t ask earlier.” Cecily finally tells the story of Edward’s conception and Elizabeth sighs relieved. “And nine month’s later, Edward was born. He is his father’s son. I would have never shared my bed with anybody else.” 

“Will George really side with Edward and Richard?” Elizabeth whispers and Cecily nods. At least she hopes he will. 

The battle of Barnet takes the life of Warwick and his brother John, but it is the first step of Edward’s return to the throne. Cecily’s prayers have been heard. Her sons are with her again, and Edward is determined to have Richard and Anne marry, now that her husband is dead…but George hasn’t learnt anything and strongly opposes this marriage. 

“I will marry her, Mama.” Richard says. “I don’t care about her fortune. I want to be her husband; I want to protect her, no matter what George wants.”

Cecily smiles as Richard shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other. “Did you already send for a dispensation?” 

“Of course. It should arrive soon…and when I’ve found out where George is hiding her, I’m taking her to sanctuary…and when the dispensation has arrived, I’ll marry her.” 

He sighs. “Mama…there is one thing…I know you are…but…I thought I’d never see her again…and…”

“Are you talking about your two bastards?” 

“How…”

“There’s little I do not know. Do you care for them?”

“Of course, I care for John and Katherine.” He mumbles. 

“Be open about them to Anne. I’m sure she’ll understand.” 

Cecily gently kisses Richard’s forehead. 

“And now I want you to go and find her! Make your father proud.”


	20. A Young Generation

Richard stays true to his word. He finds Anne, whom George has disguised as a kitchen maid, takes her to sanctuary, and, as soon as the dispensation arrives, marries her. 

For the first time, Cecily feels unbelievably happy again. It makes her even happier to see Elizabeth’s sulky face. She still opposes this marriage, and it makes her very angry that it is something she has in common with George. 

Cecily watches Richard and Anne, and suddenly she feels as if she’d be looking at her own wedding from a different point of view. She plays with the necklace Richard has given her as a gift for the birth of their youngest son…who is now married as well. 

_They look gorgeous, Richard. I knew Dickon would look wonderful in his blue doublet. It was your colour. Royal blue. Oh, and just look at Anne, the colour is hers as well. I wonder how anyone could ever doubt these two. They look so happy. I was happy as well, when you married me. I wish you could be here now, Richard. Our youngest boy…married…and I’m sure he’ll be a father soon_. Cecily thinks and chuckles. Life seems to be bright again. 

Cecily is called to Middleham in early December. Richard’s first son is born. The little bundle in Richard’s arms makes her laugh. “Oh, he looks exactly like you did when you were just born.” 

“Really?” Richard cannot hide the pride he feels. “They say he is small, Mama, but…”

“Ah, nonsense. You were small as well, and now look at you.” Cecily gently strokes his cheek. “What’s the name of this little one?” Her smile grows wider as Richard gently places the little boy into her arms. 

“Well, Anne wanted to name him Richard…but as Edward’s boy is called Richard and it feels weird to have my first son named Richard…we named him Edward. We’ll call him Ned.” 

“It’s a good name, Richard. How is Anne?”

“She’s well now. The birth has exhausted her, and apparently the position of the baby caused a lot of trouble, and she’s lost a lot of blood…” Richard has to fight with all of his strength to suppress a sob. 

“But she is fine. That’s all that matters.” Cecily pauses for a second. “Your father would be proud of you.” 

Richard bites back the tears. His father has been dead for more than ten years. It still hurts him. He would love to show his father his first son. The name of his firstborn would be Richard if his father was still alive. 

But he isn’t. 

Cecily spends a lot of her time at Middleham the following years. Ned is growing day by day it seems, but it’s not the only reason. She feels she has to be there for Richard and Anne, especially since the Countess, who has come to live with them, is still drowning in tears because she’s lost her husband. 

One miscarriage after the other. One stillbirth after the other. Every time she looks into Richard’s eyes, she can see the pain in them. “They are my children, Mama. My children cause her pain. My children are the reason a part of her dies…every time.” 

He buries his hands in his hair, pulling at the curls in a desperate motion. 

“Stop it!” Cecily hisses, before her voice turns soft again. “Anne wouldn’t do that if she didn't love you…and if she would not think it’s for a higher cause. God has given you Ned, and I’m sure God will give you more children, Richard. Don’t despair.”

“How did you and Papa handle that?” He murmurs. Richard still remembers the stories Edward has told him about siblings that died too early to become a part of the family. He supposes back then these stories have been told to scare him…but it’s only now that they really do.

Cecily thinks for a second. “We always knew we had each other…and after Annie was born, we knew we could have healthy children. Children that would live a long life. Children that would outlive us.”

Her breath is heavy as she rushes up the stairs. _Annie is dying_ is all that she can think of. Her first child to survive the dangers of childhood. The first child that's made Richard smile. She cannot be dying. The birthing chamber is dark. Cecily has always hated that tradition. 

“Annie.” She whispers as she sits down at the edge of the bed. “Mama?” Her daughter’s voice is frail and Cecily knows immediately that Annie’s time on earth is limited. “I’m here, darling. I’m here.” 

Cecily lights a candle and places it on the little night stand. She can see Annie better now. Oh, her little Annie. She looks pale and sweat is covering her forehead. 

“I’m dying, Mama. I’m dying…and I didn’t even have much time with my child.” 

“You are not dying, Annie. You are just weak; you will get back on your feet, my little darling.” Cecily wipes away the sweat on Annie’s forehead and prays that she will be right, that her daughter will live. 

“No, Mama. I can see Papa and Edmund.” Annie laughs, it’s a weak laugh. “Papa is angry that I’m already joining them…” 

“Oh, Annie.” 

“I love you, Mama.” Annie murmurs and Cecily pulls her into her arms. “I love you too, Annie.” She holds her daughter as she takes her last breath. Hours seem to have passed as she finally lets her daughter go. She looks at the little baby, a girl named Anne by her father. She cannot see her daughter in the child, but she still feels like she will love the little girl very much. She is all that is left of her little Annie. 

“Take good care of her, Thomas.” Cecily murmurs. The lips of her son-in-law tremble. “Yes, I promise.” “Send her to me, every now and then. I want to have her close to me.” He nods again and Cecily turns to leave. 

The words she’s said to Richard still echo in her ears. _“Children that would outlive us.”_ Her chest feels tight and she feels unable to breathe. _What if I am going to outlive all of them? What if I am going to be the last one? I am old. I should be dead…but instead you’ve taken Annie, Lord. I pray that you will be reunited with your father and your siblings in heaven, my sweetheart…and I promise that I will always have an eye on your daughter. Don’t you worry about her, my love._

Richard closes his arms around his mother. The death of his oldest sister shocks and upsets him deeply and he feels he has to be there for his mother…just like she’s always been there for him.


	21. Come Home

They’ve buried Richard’s body at Pontefract, but Edward decides to have him and Edmund reburied at Fotheringhay. Everything is settled as Cecily arrives at Fotheringhay. It’s late July and the heat is unbearable, but Cecily just has to make the journey. 

She is alone as she steps into the family vault. Edward has commissioned effigies for both of them, his father and his brother. Cecily gasps as she sees them for the first time. She feels like she’s looking into their faces, just like they’ve been before their deaths. 

Her fingers run over the cold marble stone, tracing the contours of her husband’s face. The eyes, the nose, the lips. It’s her Richard. She leans her head against the effigy and tries to breathe as normally as possible. It’s hard to believe that her Richard and her little Edmund are lying here in their graves. 

“Edward thought you would like them.” She hears Richard’s voice echoing through the vault. It doesn’t shock her. Nothing could ever shock her as long as Richard is close to her. 

“Yes.” She merely says, looking up. 

“I was afraid I would forget how Papa looked like.” Richard clears his throat. “But now I’m sure I never will.” 

“No, I could never forget his face.” Cecily murmurs and gets up. It takes longer now, and Richard is worried about his mother. She immediately rolls her eyes and waves his worries away.

“How is Anne?”

“She lost another child…just before I left to accompany Papa and Edmund.” 

Richard starts to chew on his lower lip. “I think we will never be able to give Ned a sibling. There will be no son to be named after Papa...and no daughter to be named after you.” 

“Does that change your feelings towards Anne?” 

“Not in the least. If I am to be honest, Mama…I am glad. I don’t know if she could go through another birth. She’s delicate and I don't want to lose her. I could not bear to lose her.” Richard continues to chew on his lower lip. The thought of having to live without Anne makes him feel uneasy. 

“It hurts me every time though. She yearns for another baby…and it hurts me that I cannot give her a child that survives the pregnancy, or the birth, or the time after the birth.” 

“Have faith. Never give up, Dickon. If it is not to happen, then it is not to happen. You will always have Ned…and each other. Never forget that. As long as you have each other, all the pain will be less. Pain becomes less when you’re able to share it, just like happiness doubles when you’re able to share it.” Cecily smiles an assuring smile. 

“Would you mind leaving me alone, Dickon? I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Richard nods and sighs. 

Cecily leans down and gently kisses the marble forehead that looks so much like her husband’s. “You’ve come home.” 

George’s wife Isabel dies in December because of childbed fever. Their son, a boy named Richard, has been born in October, but his mother, always delicate, is not able to recover from his birth. 

George blames everyone and everything on her death. He is devastated. The only string that has kept him attached to his sanity is now cut. He is lost without Isabel. He has always loved her. Cecily can only watch him signing his own death warrant as he blames Isabel’s death on the Queen. He still believes the Queen has poisoned his Isabel, and he takes the law into his own hands and has one of Isabel’s ladies-in-waiting, Ankarette Twynyho, executed without a trial. 

He firmly believes the Twynyho woman has poisoned Isabel…on the Queen’s command. 

Little Richard dies only a few weeks after his mother. George’s children Margaret and Teddy are sent into Richard and Anne’s household at Middleham…and George is tried for treason. 

“Edward, you cannot execute George. Please don’t do it. He’s lost his mind because of Isabel’s death. Don’t kill your brother, Edward.” Cecily would fall on her knees to protect her son, but Edward only shakes his head and Cecily could rip out Elizabeth’s eyes as the young woman looks at her, completely satisfied…and happy. She has never forgotten George's involvement in the death of her father and brother.

“Let me travel to Fotheringhay before you do it. I want to be with your father.” She murmurs.

Edward nods, unable to say a word. 

Cecily is at Fotheringhay. She is at home as the messenger brings the news. George is dead. 

“Our children are killing each other, Richard.” She murmurs, closing her eyes to stop the tears from falling. “What have we done wrong?”

Cecily falls on her knees, finally allowing herself to cry. 

“I wish we could have done something.” Anne murmurs. She’s wrapped in a blanket; Richard always makes sure she is when it’s cold outside. 

“George chose the death of a fool.” Richard murmurs, looking up apologetically into his mother’s eyes. 

“He did. And Edward sacrificed another life to please his wife.” Cecily starts to rub her temples. She feels terribly exhausted. Richard and Anne look at each other, both are worried about Cecily.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m as fine as a woman who’s lost her son to another son could be.” 

Silence fills the room. It is the most uncomfortable silence. Cecily doesn’t want to say anything and neither Richard, nor Anne can say anything. Each of them is aware, that their lives could change within a second. In the glimpse of an eye, everything could be different. 

“I hope, no I pray our lives will be peaceful from now on. We deserve it.” Cecily finally breaks the silence, playing with her necklace. 

“Yes, Mama. We do.” 

The next five years seem to fulfil Cecily’s wish. She still spends most of her time at Middleham, watching her little grandson Ned grow. He worries her though. He’s inherited the Neville health and is delicate, which is the reason for constant sorrow. Ned is a fighter though, and Cecily is proud of her grandson. 

Even though Anne tries to teach her son that nothing is for free, the little boy knows exactly that his grandmother will bring something along for him. It makes Anne sigh, yet, she cannot help but smile at their relationship.


	22. Troubled Years

Edward is dead. The King is dead. Cecily starts to believe that her greatest fear of being the only one to survive is actually going to happen. Richard is appointed as Lord Protector. It scares Anne and Cecily to death. Especially Cecily can remember very vividly what happened to the last Lord Protectors. 

Elizabeth takes sanctuary again, making it seem like Richard is some terrible villain who would kill her and her children. Cecily knows immediately that Elizabeth won’t give up until she has killed every member of the York family. _A Lancastrian after all...Woodvilles will sit on the throne...and they will kill the Yorkist part of her son's family in the blink of an eye._. 

Cecily loves her grandchildren from Edward, but since Elizabeth has done everything to have her family involved in their upbringing, they have developed the same snobbish behaviour of their mother, and the same disregard for their father's family. 

Early in June her life takes a drastic turn again. She’s always thought Edward would have handled the problem with the Butler woman, but apparently, he has not. She’s believed him. She would have always believed him. Cecily, Richard, and Anne think it’s necessary that Richard takes the throne…and he does. 

“If I am to be honest, Your Grace,” Cecily’s maid says, “I am quite glad that the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester are going to be King and Queen of England. They are a grown up couple, and they have a son. I think we’re going to have a good future ahead of us.”

Cecily nods. She is glad as well. She watches Richard and Anne’s coronation with a smile on her face. Yet, she cannot help but wonder what it would have been like when her Richard and she would have been crowned. 

Only a few months later, she finds herself glad that it never happened. The crown lies heavy on Richard’s head. Both, he and Anne change. Richard’s habit of chewing on his lower lip becomes even worse. He has to make decisions that are not accepted by the public, but he keeps going his way. Cecily is proud and worried at the same time.

Prince Edward and his brother Richard disappear from the tower and Richard knows he will be the one to be blamed…Cecily has already found another suspect. Margaret Beaufort, a woman who is greedy for power…a woman who wants to see her own son on the throne. A son with the weakest claim…Cecily suspects that the Beaufort woman has a part in it, as soon as she finds out that she is plotting with Elizabeth to arrange a marriage between her son Henry, and Elizabeth’s oldest daughter. 

Richard tries to keep everything together. He tries to stop the plotting by bringing young Elizabeth and her sister Cecily to court. It won’t help. 

Everything falls apart the minute Ned dies. 

Richard, Anne, and Cecily are devastated. Their beloved little boy is dead. Anne tries desperately to get pregnant again, only to suffer from another early miscarriage. Her health begins to fail as well. 

“They say she has tuberculosis, Mama. They want me to stay away from her, but I can’t.” Richard mumbles. “I cannot lose her, Mama.” Cecily doesn’t know whether Richard is talking to her, or to himself. “We should have faith, Richard.” 

All faith is for naught. Anne dies, almost a year after Ned, during an eclipse. They see it as a sign that the House of York is going to fall. Richard doesn’t care about prophecies and beliefs, his heart is broken. He seems to spend his days as a hollow shadow of his former self, showing emotions only once…as he cries at Anne’s funeral. 

Cecily feels helpless. She sees her son’s life slipping through her fingers. She cannot bring him to stand on his own feet again.

“So many losses.” He murmurs. “And they think I’d bed my niece. That I’d marry her. Never. And I will never marry that Portuguese princess. You did not remarry.”

Richard looks at her, smiling weakly. Cecily takes his hand and kisses it. “Oh my poor boy.” 

Henry Tudor. The name seems to follow Richard. _Henry Tudor is going to attack. He wants the throne, and he wants to marry the princess Elizabeth_. 

The day Richard leaves for the battle he visits his mother. “Promise me you’ll fight, Richard. Promise me to come back.” Richard only smiles before he kisses her goodbye and leaves. 

Cecily starts to think that she never wants to receive a messenger, but he comes and he tells her what she’s been dreading to hear. _King Richard has been defeated. Henry Tudor is the new King now._

Cecily’s heart seems to fail her. Her boy is dead. Her last son is dead. She doesn’t care about the future; she only cares about the loss of her boy. _I swear, Henry Tudor, you will regret the day you killed my boy._

_Wakefield. Bosworth._

“Shh, Mama.” She hears her daughter Bess whisper. “I’m here, Mama.” 

“We are the last Plantagenets, Bess. You, Margaret, and I…we are…” Cecily whispers. Bess buries her head in her mother’s hair, trying to hold back the tears. The loss of her father, the loss of her brothers…she prays she won’t lose her mother now. 

It takes a long time until Cecily is recovered again. She will probably never fully recover, but she is able to move again, to eat again, and to breathe again. 

Bess cares for her mother as good as she can. Cecily finds joy in Bess’ children, her grandchildren. They do everything to cheer their grandmother up. Cecily wishes she would have spent more time with them before. 

“I think Richard didn’t even try to fight.” Bess murmurs. “I know he had Papa’s military talent. He could have won this battle. He…” Bess swallows, the lump in her throat makes it almost impossible to speak. 

“We shouldn’t think about this, Bess. It’s done, and we cannot change it. I’m just waiting for the day that I can be with them again.” Cecily whispers, trying to hide the tears. She still wants to be strong. 

“You are so strong, Mama. You’ve always been. So much stronger than anyone of us.” 

Cecily just smiles and closes her eyes, letting the sun warm her body, though she knows her heart will always be cold.


	23. Epilogue - Ribbons around Our Hearts

Elizabeth holds her grandmother close. “Thank you, Grandmère. Thank you for telling your story.” Cecily smiles, she feels her death is close, but she feels at peace. She has told her story, she can let go now. 

“I understand it now. Oh, Grandmère. Forgive me.”

“For what? You love Henry. You deserve to love someone, you deserve some happiness. Everyone deserves happiness. I will never like him, but that shouldn’t bother you.” Cecily laughs and Elizabeth joins in. 

“I cannot wait to be with them, Elizabeth. Don’t you worry about me. I will be happy again.” 

Cecily’s breath is heavy, she won’t take many more, she’s sure. Elizabeth cannot hold the tears back anymore. “Please, Grandmère, don’t leave me.” She sobs. “Oh, love. I will be watching you. I promise…and I’ll tell your father what a wonderful woman has become of you. He will be so proud.” 

The last day of May in the year of the Lord 1495 is the day Cecily Neville, Duchess of York takes her last breath. 

Hours later, Elizabeth steps into the sunlight. The warm sun touches her skin and she closes her eyes. She has left orders that her grandmother is to be buried next to her grandfather…where she belongs. She will return to London, to the court, to Henry with newfound knowledge. She descends from a strong woman. Cecily’s blood is running through her veins. She is strong. 

She will tell her children the story of her grandmother. She wants them to be proud of their heritage. 

Cecily opens her eyes a bit, the warm sunlight is tickling her skin, but she feels something…or someone is hovering above her. She opens her eyes completely and gasps. “Richard!”

He laughs one of his deep laughs. “Yes.” He murmurs, gently nudging her nose with his. Cecily cannot help but stare at him. He looks so young…not a single strand of his hair is grey, and not a single wrinkle is visible on his face. Cecily raises a hand to touch his face…and is surprised that it’s the hand of a young woman. 

“Just how I would always remember you.” He whispers as he notices her astonishment. He closes her lips with his. _I must be dreaming!_ Cecily thinks. She cannot believe this is true. She’s with her Richard again. She can feel him. He is there. He is with her. 

Cecily laughs, pulling at his doublet so that she can roll them around, and is straddling him. “So, you’ve been waiting for me?” She grins, her fingers playing with the buttons of his doublet. “Of course, you know that I would have waited a million years for you.” Richard wraps a strand of her golden hair around his finger. “I would have waited even longer.” 

Cecily bends down to kiss him again. She loves the sensation. She’s missed it for so long. “Thirty five years. I had to live thirty five years without you.” Richard rises up to kiss the tears away. “Shh. I know…I know…” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You are with me again…and I will never leave you again. Never.” 

He kisses her, pressing her body close to his. Cecily is almost breathless as he lets go of her again, but she cannot help but laugh. It’s free and happy laughter; Richard has never been able to resist it. 

“Are the children here as well?” 

“Yes, they are. Our Henrys, Annie, Ned, Edmund, William, John, George, Thomas, Dickon, and Joan. They’re all here. Our grandchildren are as well. I have to say, I’m proud of them. Of every single child we have and of every single grandchild.” He smiles.

“You will see them again soon, I promise…but for now, you’re only mine. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” Richard grins; he knows that her first reply would have been that she should go to see them. 

“It’s beautiful here. It reminds me of Fotheringhay.” Cecily smiles one of her mischievous smiles, making Richard laugh. “I thought we’d settled on playing no more games.” He laughs and rolls around again, burying her body under his. She can feel the grass beneath her body, and his body on hers. His muscles move and she can feel his heartbeat. She has never felt better. 

“How come I could never love anyone but you?” She whispers, looking into his deep green eyes. 

“You know…there are these ribbons. Ribbons that keep our hearts bound together. Everyone has these ribbons, Edward and Elizabeth have them. George and Isabel have them. Dickon and Anne have them…and we have them…all of us have them wound around our hearts.”

“Ribbons around our hearts.” Cecily murmurs, letting her fingers trace the contours of his face. Her hand wanders to his chest…where his heart lies. She can feel it beating. It’s beating in time with her own heart. 

She pulls him close to kiss her again. She will never get enough of it, and somehow, she’s not really able to believe that she will never have to miss it…that she can have as much as she wants of it. 

_Ribbons around our hearts._ She thinks. _My heart has always been yours…and nothing will ever be able to cut that ribbon that connects your heart to mine. My life is beautiful again._

“I love you, Cecily.” He whispers into her ear, knowing that she’s always loved these sweet whispers. 

“I love you, Richard. Only you. No one else but you. You are the ribbon that has kept my heart together for so long. ” 

Her arms wrap around him and she buries her face against the crook of his neck. He smells so familiar and Cecily knows she's home. He is her home. She feels home.

She has finally come home.


End file.
